Heart of the City
by Maya Perez
Summary: Dean has never forgotten the time he spent in the form of a jaguar thanks to the Mayan goddess Ix Chel. With his time running out, he never expected a chance to ever be one again. Yet Ix Chel has need of the brothers once more.
1. Chapter 1

(Notes: This is a stand alone story though it does make reference to previous events in "Sacrifice of the Heart" which is set in Season 2 after the episode Heart. Guess what I am saying is that you do not need to have read the first one to read this one. Doh! This story is set in Season 3 between BDABR and DALDOM)

Chapter 1

Dean yawned, his powerful jaws opening wide to show large sharp teeth capable of crushing the skull of prey. He rose to all fours making his leisurely way out from where he lay concealed in a thick bank of brush. The sounds of a nearby river masked any minute sounds his padded feet made.

Twisting his neck first one way and then the other, he then stretched out his front legs and let his sharp claws dig into the soft dirt, his back arching until his rear legs were straight. He swung his tail lazily back and forth, luxuriating in the sensation.

Moist air traveled into his nose and lungs as he took a deep breath, all manner of information sparking in his brain as the input was torn apart into its component pieces. His ears swiveled to the left and right adding to the data. Even his whiskers played a part. The scent of cavorting spider monkeys about a hundred yards to his left mixed in with the cloying smell of overripe curuba. A lone manatee swam lazy circles in the river behind him. Birds of all types and colors filled the trees to his right, their early morning chatter filling the air. Trees, dirt, green, life -- all were catalogued inside his hunter's mind and divided between fun, food, and danger from what he could see, hear, and smell.

Just for amusement, he called out, the jaguar's unique cough rebounding around him causing the birds and other small creatures to scatter in alarm in all directions. None of them had previously caught his scent and therefore had no idea where he was.

Dean watched the chaos he'd caused with wry enjoyment until everything grew tranquil again.

He knew this was a dream.

Everything was too vibrant, too detailed to be anything else.

He'd had dreams like this before. Except then they hadn't been exactly dreams.

Months before he sold his soul in exchange for his brother's life, back when Sam was still struggling with the guilt and pain of Madison's death, an ancient woman had come to him. Without his knowing, she had placed one of her sons inside him, and he in turn had helped Dean cross back and forth between the land of dreams and reality, giving him the ability to change shape.

A lot of the details were fuzzy now, as if the memories were reclaimed when the parted veil between worlds had been dropped once more, their mission done.

Despite that, despite the fact Sam had been kidnapped and almost sacrificed to some ancient pissed off spirit, what Dean recalled most clearly about that time, about when he'd not been quite himself was that it'd been an utter blast!

Okay, except for getting Baby wet inside and making her stink like the insecticide infested Trinity River. That he could have done without. Even now, he wasn't sure the Impala had forgiven him entirely for that one.

So with his time on this earth as short as it was, this was a great dream to have. And he was going to milk it for all he was worth till the alarm or Sammy woke him up.

Choosing a direction at random, Dean took off, letting the low hanging leaves and wind sweep over him as he used the speed and power of his dark feline form to race through the jungle.

He could feel well honed muscles rippling as he dashed from tree to tree. His balance and agility as he leapt up to bank off a trunk or clamber up to a tree limb to leap into the air was amazing.

Only having Sammy out here with him, sharing this, could have possibly made it more sweet.

As if summoned by his thought, Dean suddenly sensed his brother somewhere off to his right.

"Sam!" He was surprised he could speak, but only for a moment. This was a dream after all. And all things were possible in a dream.

"Dean?" His brother came out on silent sandaled feet from behind a vine draped gigantic ceiba tree. Like Dean, he too was changed. His hair was long and deep black, falling to the middle of his back, his long bangs getting in the way of his eyes like always. The normal pale tint of his skin was gone, replaced by a milk chocolate tan. His garb was the same as the last time they appeared to share a dream together -- a rainbow colored belt and woven pants that didn't quite reach his ankles and was full of bright colors. A leather pouch was strapped to the middle of his chest and a jade necklace composed of carve animal faces graced his neck.

"Dude, I was just wishing you were here."

Dean saw his brother take a half step back as his face twisted with shock and surprise as he caught a look at him. "Why are you a jaguar?"

Dean's ears swiveled forward. "Cause it's my dream, Sammy. And in my dream I can be anything I wanna be."

"But, I didn't ask to be this." Sam pointed at himself, at his bitching garb.

"Hello! My dream. _Mine_, not yours. I set the rules." He slapped his brother with his thick tail to drive the point home. Sam hopped on one foot trying not to fall over from the force of it.

His brother's brows drew together, the edges of his mouth turning down. "Like hell this is just yours!"

Dean's ears flattened against his head, his tail swishing. "Okay…then if it isn't mine, you'll easily be able to beat me to that half fallen tree trunk way over there, right?"

"Oh, come on, dreams don't work that way and you know it."

"Chicken." Dean slapped the soft ground sideways, his claw sending clumps of dirt and leaves in Sam's general direction.

His brother waved a dismissive hand. "You don't know what you're talking about. As usual."

He sensed Sam getting ready though he tried hard not to look it. His brother was game. Awesome.

Dean tensed his own muscles in preparation. "Okay…ready, set…" He took off. "Go!"

"Dean, you cheater! You suck man!"

He laughed as he pelted through the foliage, sensing Sam coming right behind him. They wove through the trees, slapped by limbs and vines, neither letting anything slow them down. Bugs and small animals scurried to get out of their way rather than risk getting run over.

Dean glanced over at his brother and caught him doing the same as they came within ten yards of their goal. Dean let his claws flex giving him just that extra bit of traction as he poured all he had left into a last sprint. He almost collided with Sam as he too shoved into overdrive.

Happier than he'd been in a damn long time, Dean pushed off with his back legs and leapt the final two feet up onto the moss covered trunk using his claws to bring himself to a stop. "Hah! You wuss!" He let his long body slump against the crinkled bark, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. "I win!"

Sam stared up at him, half bent over with his hands over his knees, gasping for air. "Only…cause…you…cheated…looser." He allowed himself to drop down onto the forest floor to rest.

Dean could only chuckle to himself, spent from the run as well, though he'd never admit it.

"What is that?"

Dean rested his chin on his paws and gazed down at his brother. "What's what?"

"Can't you hear it? It's like a low keening sound." Sam's head tilted slightly to the side, his eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration.

Swiveling his ears in the same direction, Dean stopped panting so he could hear better. At first there was nothing there, but then he heard it. A far off sound, rising and falling, almost like a wail. "That's wicked strange, dude."

Sam rose slowly to his feet. "I think we should check it out."

"What for? This is just a dream."

His brother shook his head. "There's more to it. Could be something important."

Giving him the feline equivalent of a shrug, Dean came up on all fours. "Sure, what the heck." He jumped down from his perch then butted Sam at the hip with his head to get him moving. "Lead on, dude."

Sam pushed at his side with his foot to get Dean to back off then set off in the direction of the sound.

The jungle grew thicker around them, the strange cry weaving in and out of their hearing. Then a path seemed to part before them out of nowhere as if rolling out to show the way. Trading glances, they decided to follow where it led.

After a timeless distance, the path broadened into a small clearing. A growing pool sat in the center of it, a woman sitting with legs to the side at the shore, her tears adding to the water. Her arms where wrapped around her swollen belly – she was with child. As they stared, a wailing cry issued from her lips, her face and hands rising toward the darkening sky above. Her skin was dark with the reddish tint Dean had come to associate with the Maya. Though her eyes and nose were swollen from crying, he had the feeling she was attractive in her way. Her long hair fell in ringlets past her shoulders.

In the middle of the pool, despite the canopy up high hiding the sky from view, shone the bright face of the moon.

"Excuse me, miss?" Sam took a half step in her direction.

Dean took a deep breath, getting the scent of her. She smelled alive and healthy, and strangely like cinnamon.

The girl seemed totally unaware of them. Dean decided to come a little closer. Sam followed. They ended up standing right beside her, but it was as if they didn't exist.

His brother tentatively reached out to touch her shoulder.

A voice echoed out around them before he could complete the gesture.

"Ba'ax ka wa'alik, warrior and shaman. It has been many cycles since we last met."

Dean sniffed the air, his ears shifting position as he tried to figure out where the speaker was hiding. He picked up no scent that shouldn't be there, no sound but the disembodied voice, nothing but the jungle around them.

"There!"

He glanced at Sam and saw his brother pointing at the water, at the image of the moon. Inside it was the shifting face of a woman, one moment young, another old, then somewhere in between. It was a face he recognized. It was the same woman he'd met in Dallas, the one whose son had merged with him for a time.

"Ix Chel!" Sam recognized her as well.

"It is good that you remember, for once more I am in need of your assistance."

Dean felt his pulse quicken. He owed her. Despite the fact they'd helped her out before, what she had done for Sammy, what she'd helped him get through, it was something he could never repay. "Just ask and I'll do it."

"Dean!" Sam's scathing look insisted he should have waited to hear what she wanted before volunteering. His brother just didn't understand. He _owed_ her. They would have done the Dallas job whether she'd asked them to or not. It didn't count.

He stepped into the water, his whole concentration on the moon floating there. "I'll help."

"She is the one who needs you. She has called to me in her despair and I in turn have called on you." Ripples across the surface of the water changed Ix Chel's face back and forth between a woman, a jaguar, and a serpent. "Find her. Help her if you can. What has been taken is very precious and must be saved."

"Do you know where she is?"

The ripples increased and the image of the moon faded to be replaced by another. This one showed a broad road, a small white sign showing it was route 3, and a larger marker in green reading Merrimack population twenty seven thousand.

"She's in Merrimack?" What kind of a name was that? Who would name a town after a happy truck?

The image faded.

"The knowledge of the past is inside you. Let the Words guide and help you. Let Their power flow through you. What has been yours once can be yours again. But you must hurry. Time is short."

The image of the moon returned to the water and glowed brighter and brighter. Its light bathed them where they stood and seemed to go through and around them, filling them, until it was all there was.

Dean's eyes snapped open. He was human, lying in bed, in a dark room smelling faintly of cigarettes and stale beer. And he'd just taken a mission from a moon goddess.

He sat up and out of the corner of his eye saw his brother do the same. They turned toward one another in the semi darkness.

"Dude, we got a job!"

"Crap." Sammy's brow furrowed, his lips growing thin. "Not again."

Dean felt the exact opposite, growing excitement racing through his veins. He'd never thought he'd get this opportunity again. He raised his right fist above his head and pumped it several times in the air. "_Yes_!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sam sighed as he looked away from his laptop's screen, then leaned back in his seat and pushed the hair away from his face. He didn't like this. This mission wasn't for them. They just couldn't afford the distraction. Yet he had no idea how to tell his brother that or more to the point, how to get him to listen.

"Did you find it yet?" Dean came out of the bathroom freshly washed and shaved, his kit packed and in his hand. He stuffed it into his duffel, which sat next to two others already ready to go.

His brother had started packing and pushing them to go almost from the moment they woke up from the shared dream. He'd insisted Sam get up and shower first, while he worked at gathering up their things. The moment he got out, Dean was hustling him toward the table, his laptop already open and ready.

The sun was only now a glimmer in the horizon, which he could barely see out the partially open curtains of the window.

"It's a town in New Hampshire." Sam found it hard to keep his tone neutral. "Named after a river there."

Dean started opening the drawers on the dresser making sure they were empty. "Don't think we've been quite up that north in a while."

He needed to get this over with. "Dean, I think we need to talk."

His brother knelt down and started checking under the nearest bed. "She said we'd have the power of Words, right? That we'd remember stuff, like I did before? You think I'm going to be able to change again? Cause that would be beyond awesome."

Sam stood up. He had to stop this now. The more excited his brother got about this job the harder it would be to derail him from it. "Dean, I need you to slow down for a minute and listen to me."

His brother moved over to the second bed. "The babe didn't look half bad either, even if she's pregnant. So there'll be eye candy and that's always a plus."

"Do you even know I'm here, Dean?" Despite what he wanted, needed to do, Sam found himself getting more than a little annoyed.

His brother just went on jabbering, not paying him the least bit of attention.

Why did he always have to make things like this hard? "_Dean_!"

His brother stood up in surprise and turned to stare at him in confusion. "What?"

"I'm trying to talk to you, you idiot!" Sam came up to him and placed both hands on his brother's chest then shoved hard forcing Dean off his feet and onto the bed. "Now shut up and listen to me for a minute!"

"Dude, what was that for? _Chill out_." Dean's expression looked hurt and disgruntled all at once.

"No, _you_ chill out and pay attention for once!" Sam fought the urge to pace, still struggling to figure out how best to say what needed to be said. "You should never have taken this job, Dean. We can't go around doing charity cases anymore." He raised his arm and jabbed a finger toward the window. "There are hundreds of demons out there that we need to track down and get rid of who aren't going to just put their plans on hold till we're ready to go after them. Demons we're at least partially responsible for putting out there in the first place. _And we're running out of time_."

Their gazes met and Sam saw all the previous excitement and energy drain out of his brother's face. It made him feel sad and pathetic for being the cause of it, especially when Dean had so little time left, but he saw no other way to do this.

"Sammy, when someone needs our help, we give it. It's what we do."

His brother was obviously not going to make this easy.

Sam couldn't hold back anymore. He started to pace. "I know that! But we can't afford to. Things have _changed_. The stakes are too high now. There's too much to lose." Just saying it, even in vague terms, still made him nervous. He hated this. He was running out of time to make things right. Soon Dean would be gone and he'd be left alone to deal with everything and just thinking about it opened up a pit inside him he sometimes thought would swallow him whole.

"We _owe_ her, Sam." Dean got off the bed and straightened his shirt, staring at him with an almost serene expression, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Sam shook his head. How could things be so black and white for him? He was going to die soon! His brother shouldn't be caring about other people now. His soul was forfeit for an eternity of torment in a few months -- and the bastard wouldn't even lift a finger to try to save himself, not when there was a chance it could backfire and kill Sam instead. As if that mattered! The risk would be worth it. There had to be a way to get his brother out of this deal.

Dean spoke again, his voice soft. "And we Winchesters, we always pay our debts, Sammy."

Sam stopped pacing, his back to his brother, his hands bunched at his sides. Dean was right and he knew it. Though they'd not asked to become involved with Ix Chel, she'd helped them find that killer in Dallas so they could put a stop to his crimes as well as restore the sickened entity empowering him. More, she'd helped him begin to heal, to get past the guilt that was eating him alive after Madison's death. And it was something she hadn't had to do. But the possible cost of helping her! His eyes burned.

"I know that…" Sam swallowed hard. "It's just that…" _I don't want you to die_…

He closed his eyes the despair of needing to help Dean out of his deal fighting with the fact they did owe Ix Chel and also that she'd asked them for help.

A few moments later Sam's shoulders slumped in defeat. In all honesty he'd known all along he never had a prayer, but felt he'd had to at least try. Dean might have seen sense for once – miracles were known to happen on occasion.

A firm hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed. "I'm sure it won't take long, Sammy. We'll hurry it along as fast as we can. Then we can get back to the other business."

At least that was something. Sam sent a grateful glance in his brother's direction. "Thanks."

Dean shoved him lightly. "Besides, you're just afraid I'll get to be a jaguar again and you won't."

Sam shoved him back. "As if."

Dean grinned. "Bitch."

"Jerk."

Sam turned away not about to admit the whole proposition did make him feel a little uneasy. It was never worth it to mess around with the supernatural, regardless of whether it was evil or not. Nothing good ever seemed to come of it. Just look at what hell it had brought into his life, and by extension everyone around him – death and chaos. And if some had their way, it would spread around the world and then some.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

They rode up through Hartford then drove into New Hampshire, picking up the piece of Route 3 out of Nashua that was the older Daniel Webster highway rather than the newer Everett Turnpike. Fall colors had totally kicked in, turning the thick forests around them into a plateful of colors full of reds, golds, yellows, and browns with sprinklings of green. The less traveled route paralleled a train line as well as the river their destination was named for.

Dean couldn't help but whistle appreciatively as they passed an Anheuser Busch Brewery plant. He thought he even saw a couple of Clydesdales in a field off to the side. A sign by the gated entrance drew his attention. "Dude, they have tours!"

"Yeah, so?" Sam didn't even glance up at his comment, scrolling through who knew what on his laptop. Less than zero chance it was something interesting, like porn.

"So, maybe they give samples away while you're there. Free beer, Sammy! Think about it."

His brother gave a small shake of his head. "No, thanks. And don't get any ideas either. You promised we'd do this job as quickly as possible. Taking tours doesn't work into that."

Sourpuss! "What, not even if it's my last chance to ever see one?"

He noticed Sam's lips grow thin, his expression hardening. "Even if. I think you've had way too many last chance items on your list at my expense already."

Guess he'd milked that as far as he was going to. Dean couldn't help a half smirk from lighting on his face. Some of the stuff really had been things he'd wanted to do, tie loose ends on or check out, but mostly, it'd just been fun to see how much he could get away with, how far he could push his brother. That and it kept Sammy from miring himself in guilt. Not that Dean's choice was anything to feel guilty about. He'd do it again in a heartbeat. But facts like that wouldn't keep Sammy from feeling it was his fault anyway. He himself knew all about that – it had eaten a little at his soul too, after they put two and two together and figured out what their father had done – trading his soul to save Dean. And though he'd thought he'd never make a choice like that himself, when faced with living with the gaping hole inside him when his brother was gone, it'd been no contest. Just for the chance to see his brother's smiling face again he would have given it all away. If he hadn't failed him, Sam would have never been dead in the first place. Someday Sammy would just have to understand.

Another few minutes and they crossed a branch of the river, then hit Baboosic Lake road on the left. Who'd come up with these names? First a Happy Truck now a Lake with boobs? Even he could do better than that.

"Okay, genius, we're in Merrimack. What now?" Sam sent him a veiled look. "It's not like this place is that small. We don't have a name or address. How are we supposed to find her?" He pointed out the window to the narrow blacktop roads, plethora of trees, quaint houses, and small business dotted here and there.

Already they'd passed the town's main cemetery and high school. Finding one pregnant, weeping woman in a town of twenty-seven thousand people without any more information would be difficult. But then, Dean already knew they had an edge. "Got it covered. I picked up her scent in the dream world. I should be able to find her here."

Sam shook his head nowhere near as excited about this as Dean thought he'd be. "You had to be almost right on top of things to smell the stuff before. And she's not some whacko object like last time."

"You have absolutely no faith in me, do you, Sam?"

That got him a frustrated huff and more shaking of the head. "No, Dean, that's not it at all. We just need more to go on than what we've got or this is going to take forever. We can't drive to every home in this place just so you can sniff stuff out."

"Dude, you're not thinking! There's another way."

His brother just stared at him, looking a little paler and less sure than before.

"I could change. It'd be way easy to pick up and track the scent then."

He heard Sammy groan. "Dean, come on, I don't really think…"

"Hey, you said you wanted this job done fast, right?"

The worried eyes and downturned frown told Dean things would be going his way. He felt only a slight twinge of guilt at using Sam's own concerns to nail him. It really would be the best way to get things moving and a long argument would be too much of a pain. And to be honest he was dying to find out whether he could or couldn't turn into a jaguar again, this time with him being fully conscious of his actions, unlike before.

"_Fine_." Sammy didn't sound happy one bit.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"All the motels I can find seem to be corporate." Sam scrolled down his laptop screen some more. "There's some bed and breakfasts, but none of them are actually in town. The closest thing seems to be a Comfort Inn, back down the Daniel Webster Highway."

He noticed Dean shaking his head. "What's the matter with America anymore? It's like it's all gotta be corporate or nothing. Always stomping on the little guy. Don't they know how hard it is to get away with credit card fraud when everything's connected?"

Sam ignored the comment, knowing the question was rhetorical anyway. "We could just give up on this and go."

"Oh, nice try, but not happening. Corporate motel it is." Dean turned the Impala around.

It really did seem like a nice little community. Well labeled streets. Trees everywhere, almost like they'd made a pact with nature to share the landscape and not dominate it. One hour from Boston, or the seacoast, or the mountains, add in the quaint charm, and it would make for a nice place to live, to raise a family. Not that his cards had ever held that in store for him. He'd given up any illusions he'd had of such things two years ago. And now with the demon horde loose and Dean about to… Well, he doubted any place like this would ever be inhabited by the likes of him. Though he'd never tell Dean, he didn't really hold much hope for his continued survival after his brother was gone. There was just too much out there gunning for him.

"Hah! Looks like the place is close to the Anheuser plant." Dean sent a grin his way. "Told you I was destined to take a tour!"

"Yeah, right." Sam twisted his neck to loosen the tight muscles, making a concerted effort to push the dark thoughts out of his mind before his brother might pick up on his maudlin mood.

"No. Oh, for crying out loud, no! Tell me that is _not_ the Comfort Inn." Dean turned off the highway into a spread parking lot. A two story concrete building front with both stairs and a ramp, as well as a wide porch and columns rose before them. It merged in the back with a two story, off white wooden building that spread to either side, obviously partitioned into small rooms from the spacing of the cloned windows outside. "It's pink!"

"That's salmon, not pink, Dean. You need to get your eyes checked."

"Dude, you are so _so_ gay!"

Sam didn't dignify the comment with even a partial eye roll. This so coming from the man who thought black was one of the primary colors. "We parking or not?"

"Yeah, yeah, we're parking." Dean picked a slot as far away from the main building as he could manage. "This place is not going to be good for my image." He patted the Impala's dash as if silently apologizing to the car as well. That was one relationship Sam had never understood at all. But then Dean didn't get his own fascination with books, so he supposed they were even.

They got out of the car, and an amused grin tugged at the edge of Sam's mouth as he watched Dean turn up the collar of his worn leather jacket to try to hide his face from view as they walked back toward the main building. The closer they got, the more his brother sped up to get out of sight.

Luckily the room wasn't in the same color scheme as the main building or Sam might have had to watch his brother go into an epileptic fit. Tame cream colored walls matching the bedspreads and lining on the picture frames met them when they opened the door. The wooden backboards, chair frames, TV cabinet, and tables were a reddish wood color. Every last bit of it clashed with the white and green-striped carpet on the floor.

Sam dumped his duffel on the bed closest to the door, not wanting to be anywhere near the wall air-conditioning unit beneath the window, not after his near fatal interlude with one when he'd been under the influence of the cursed rabbit's foot a couple of months before.

"Is it me, or is this room even smaller than what we usually end up with and for what, about twice the cost?" Dean turned sideways to walk past him and drop his stuff on the other side of second bed.

"We could have gotten the one with the kitchenette. It was bigger."

"Yeah…cause doing the domestic thing in this pink place would so help me not look gay." Dean sent him a dirty look.

Sam exhaled slowly, trying not to get annoyed. The room really was miniscule. And if there was one thing both of them could not be called was small. They'd have to work not to trip over each other.

Dean shuffled over to the lone curtain and drew the drapes closed. Shuffling past Sam again, and almost elbowing him backward onto the bed, he made sure to close the second door lock.

Rather than moving precariously past Sam yet again, he jumped on the bed and crossed on over onto his. Sitting down, he started pulling his boots off.

"What are you doing?"

Dean raised a brow in his direction. "Uh, hello? Earth to Sam? I'm prepping to change. Reason we came to this awful place for a room? Speeding things along to make you happy? Remember?"

This time the exhale came out a lot faster, and too late for the not getting annoyed part. But with it also rose a cold line up his back. He'd totally forgotten why they'd come and still didn't like it any better than before. "Dean, maybe we should wait. See if Ix Chel comes into our dreams again tonight. She might give us more clues on how to find this woman."

His brother shook his head. "I'm pretty sure we're on our own, dude. She never said anything about visiting us again."

He knew his brother was probably right, but the whole thing made him uneasy. It wasn't just the fact they had no idea what they were doing, or that they were dealing with something supernatural, it was the whole thought of Dean physically changing who he was -- what he was. What if he lost his sense of self? Lost control of the change? Became something more like Madison…

Just thinking her name squeezed his heart.

She'd been an innocent, dragged by fate and bite into becoming something different, a creature of death and raw animal instinct. What was there to keep something like that from happening to his brother as well? "I just don't feel comfortable with you doing this."

Dean dropped his second boot on the floor. "Dude, will you stop worrying? It's not like I haven't done this before."

Sam found himself taking several steps toward him all in a rush. "Actually, _you_ haven't! It was her son before. _You_ have never done this. And if somehow you manage to pull it off, _you_ have no idea how to get out of it later."

His brother just stared up at him, hazel eyes hard and lips thinned in annoyance. Then his expression changed minutely, his gaze softening and really seeing Sam rather than just looking at him. "What's this really about, Sammy?"

Sam's brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Dean pursed his lips still staring at him. "Ooo-kay. Tell you what. Why don't you just go for a walk or something? How's that sound? Maybe go talk to that receptionist about the differences between 'pink' and 'salmon'. Come back in fifteen or so."

Sam's fists bunched at his sides at his brother's suggestion, not sure if he was more pissed at the fact Dean was trying to give him an out or the layer of condescension around it. Sure, he didn't think this was the smartest of things to do, and parts of him were downright scared of something going wrong, but he'd never asked or even implied he wanted to bail out on him. It just wasn't the way they did things. Dean might not give a shit about the few short months of life he had left, but they meant everything to him. Wasn't it enough he'd agreed to go on this mission, wasting time they could have better spent on finding a way of getting Dean out of his deal?

"No. I'll stay."

Though it took all he had, he was able to keep his voice and body level instead of giving in to the impulse to rush forward again, grab his brother by the shirt, yank him to his feet and scream it in his face. "I've seen it happen before. It's not like I don't know what to expect."

The anger rolling inside him flushed out in a rush as Dean's shoulders half slumped in relief and a small grin lit on his face.

"Awesome."

Maybe he wasn't the only one worried about how things might turn out. And the fact Dean wasn't taking the concept as cavalierly as he'd made it sound, helped ease his own fears, telling him his brother wouldn't do something randomly stupid. Maybe…


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Dean watched some of the tension ease out of his brother's face and dared breathe a little easier himself. Though he was excited as hell about the opportunity to change again, he knew Sam didn't feel the same. Too many things about the first time around had brought up memories of Madison and her disease, and had made Sam think Dean might be a werewolf, though in reality the two were as far from one another as could be. Still, knowing something but stopping yourself from feeling something else were also two totally different animals. And while his brother was one of the most learned and logical thinking people he'd ever met, he had a hard time on occasion keeping his feelings from getting into the middle of things.

Dean shoved his boots to the side and shrugged out of his leather jacket, tossing it the few feet to the ugly ass chair by the miniscule desk at the corner of the room.

Not that having feelings was necessarily a bad thing. But it did tend to make his little brother a raging worrywart. He could worry on something and gnaw at it until there was nothing left. It made him too serious, kept him from just enjoying things, from cutting loose. Sometimes you just had to live for the moment, consequences be damned!

He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and took it off, soon followed by his olive t-shirt.

Dean sent a glance in Sam's direction and noticed that his brother had backed up to the other bed and was sitting down at the corner. His hands were clasped together, forearms on his legs, and he was staring at the floor near Dean's feet.

Dean stood up and unhooked his belt, then quickly slipped out of his jeans. Socks were next. He regretted taking them off a few seconds later as his bare feet hit the carpet. It was sticky and definitely not in a good way. They shampoo the thing with cola?

He left his shorts on. Had to observe some propriety, Sam not being a girl and all, or not much of one anyway. He grinned. Sam in drag would not be a pretty picture.

"Don't forget to take off your bracelet and your watch."

Glancing over at Sam, his brother looked like he hadn't moved, still staring at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing around there.

"Yeah, good idea." He slipped the two items off and leaned back to set them on the nightstand. "Guess that's it then."

"Looks like." Sam raised his head to look at him, his expression hidden. "Now what?"

Dean looked away. This was the part he wasn't sure about. "Well, she said to use the Words, that they would guide and help us. That the knowledge of the past was inside us, like before." He closed his eyes trying to recollect what he could about the time in Dallas, about how it had felt to be a jaguar. Everything Mayan was ruled by Words, by names. Every city, every building, piece of furniture, bowls and more were engraved with their name, giving the objects presence and the owners power because they had the Words.

He took a deep breath, shaking his muscles loose, relaxing, letting the thoughts flow where they would -- feeling it was right. And for him, feelings weren't the same as for Sam. The ones that guided him in the world weren't from the heart, but came from instinct, experience, the voice of the wind, the ground, the truth of the Words given to them by the gods and which brought the five worlds into being.

And the Word he sought, the one that would open his desire was what made the jaguar all that it could be – _B'alam_.

A gasp to his right made Dean open his eyes. The room around him shimmered, at once there and not there, as if pieces of the other worlds sharing the same space were making themselves known. Sam had the flat of his hand on his chest, his eyes wide, breaths coming in quick puffs as if he'd been running.

Dean saw the leather pouch he'd seen Sam wear in the dream world fade in and out of reality in the same place Sam held his hand. Light and whispered words and the scent of sweetest honey seemed to pour from there, weaving its way toward his own chest.

"Sam!" He smiled as his brother's troubled face turned toward him. "I know what you are. And I know what I am! I am your _nagual_."

Sam still clutched at his chest, but the features of his face smoothed as understanding dawned.

Dean's grin grew wider and wider. Here was a truth he had already known, yet it was being shown to him again in new angles, new ways. He was Sam's spirit companion, one who would protect him from evil spirits. The very things he had been doing all his life. He was Sam's conduit between worlds, his bridge between realities. His strength.

Words filled his head and he let them loose -- Words for the blood, Words for the nerves, the bones, and the muscles, everything that composed his body. And as they rang inside him, he felt those things begin to change, a pressure weaving through him, not comfortable, but not quite pain.

He slipped from the bed to the floor as if he'd been turned into fluid. He blinked, his vision popping with flashes going from color to black and white to color and back again. He saw Sam staring at him, the light and sound and smells still streaming from his chest, the color bleeding out yet the details growing sharper, the scales of shades of gray multiplying and sending as much information or more as the colors did before.

His mouth split wider and filled with teeth, some growing so long they couldn't be contained inside. He could feel his insides moving, flowing to different places, his gall bladder, the repository of his soul, a warm bright spot shifting within him. As his insides settled, his outside shrunk inwards to mold to new muscle and bone. The normal hairs over his skin thickened and grew, clothing him in dark, thick fur. His fingers shortened, but his fingernails grew and hardened, ending in sharp points. His ears tapered and partially curved, sounds growing louder and more distinct by the moment. His nose shortened and became overrun by scents – the leather of his coat, the soap used on the sheets, the dust accumulating under the beds, the manly odor that meant everything that was Sam.

He blinked, felt a moment of dizziness, and then the feeling of pressure was suddenly gone, the Words growing silent.

It was done.

Dean laughed and it came out as a rough cough that boomed in the room rattling the walls and window. Oops, he'd have to watch that. Wouldn't want to upset the neighbors.

He rolled to get on his four feet and though his mind whirled at the thought, another part of him knew exactly what to do and did it. Staring at his forepaws, he flexed his claws. He watched them come out and grab at the sticky carpet. He could feel its plastic cloth fibers beneath him. He'd done it! This was real!

He looked up, wanting to share the moment with his brother.

Sam was still sitting on the edge of the bed, but was bent over his legs, his breath rasping quickly in and out.

_Sammy?_

Unable to speak, Dean lumbered forward. He could see and smell sweat on Sam's half covered face. He nudged his brother's knee with his head. Already he could hear Sam's breathing slowing a little.

"I'm…I'm okay. Just tired. Wasn't expecting it." Sam sat back up looking a little pale. "Guess I get to be your power conduit or something for this mess."

Dean turned his head so he could take a better look at him. His brother seemed all right.

"Wonder why she didn't just let you borrow her son again."

Dean shrugged, not really caring, thinking it was better this way. He was in control and in the 'here and now' this way, rather than in that dream place, that other version of reality.

He shook his hind legs to throw off his now unneeded shorts.

A grumbling sound echoed suddenly in the small room. It was coming from Sam's stomach. Dean sat on his haunches and grinned at him, especially at the surprised look on his brother's face. Guess Sammy needed some grub after all this.

Then it was his own turn to look startled, as his stomach answered just as loudly and seconded the sentiment. Breakfast hadn't been that long ago. Just how much out of a person did this transformation stuff take?

"Need food, huh?" Sam stood up only swaying a little. "Didn't look like this place had a restaurant." He pushed his bangs away from his face. "Guess I'll go get something and bring it back."

Dean would have rolled his eyes, but that didn't seem to work in his current shape too well. For a smart guy, sometimes his brother could be a little dense. With a quick bounce, he leapt between the beds and gave a love tap to the white phone sitting on the nightstand. It gave out a startled warble.

Sam turned back around at the noise. Dean tapped the phone again.

"Oh. Yeah. I guess we could order out."

Maybe the ordeal had taken more out of his brother than he thought. He bobbed his head to let him know that's exactly what they should do. If he remembered right, the room's keycard even had a number for Domino's on it.

Sam got a clue about a minute later on that too and called them.

While they waited for the food to arrive, Dean used what little room the place afforded and modeled for Sam so the two of them could take a good look at his awesome form. Sam gave him a tired half grin though he still looked worried at the edges. "You really did it, Dean. You were able to change."

Like there'd ever been any doubt!

Now what he needed was to get outside and test drive this baby. His claws were itching to dig into some grass or the trunk of a tree. It was too cool to have his weapons be a part of him. He had to check 'em out.

His ears swiveled toward the door at a knock about twenty minutes later.

"Dude, get in the bathroom." Sam got up off the bed and opened the door to the tiny chamber.

I sat my butt down on the carpet and didn't move.

The knock repeated.

"Just a second!" Sam turned around to face him. "No pets allowed, remember?" His voice was a harsh whisper, his expression none too pleased. "And you're a jaguar, for Pete's sake! Come on, it'll just be for a minute."

The things he did for his brother. With what passed for a sigh in this body, he slithered over into the bathroom. Sam closed the door all the way before dealing with the delivery person. Like what did he think he was going to do? A wicked grin parted his feline lips.

Dean turned around, bumping into the tub and toilet, the place way too cramped for a human, so even more so for someone like him. He swiveled his ears as he moved, to pick up the conversation outside the door.

"Got your delivery, sir. Two large pepperoni and sausage pizzas and a double order of plain buffalo wings, plus a bottle of coke."

"Great. Thanks."

Dean thumped his tail against the door…hard.

"Holy crap! What was that?"

He could so imagine Sam frowning at the bathroom door just then.

"Guess I didn't put the blow dryer back on to the wall right. Heavy sucker."

Dean was tempted to thump the door again just to see what Sam would say then, but decided against it. The smell of meat coming off the pizza was making him drool. His stomach rumbled loudly again in case he hadn't gotten the hint the first time.

"Thanks. Just keep the change."

He heard the door close and the lock being thrown. He then heard Sam step further into the room then come back toward the bathroom. Dean turned himself around, ready to get out.

"Dean, childish much?"

He couldn't help a small cough as he slipped past his displeased brother and followed the smell of food. Spotting the cartons, he shoved one to the edge of the bed then picked it up with his teeth and carried it to an open space of carpet. Letting it drop, he lightly licked the side of the box where the grease of the pepperoni had already soaked through. The meaty taste just made his stomach rumble louder in anticipation.

"Want me to open that for you?"

Dean snorted his answer and nosed the flap of the lid up then swatted it over. Time to chow down.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Sam grabbed one of the two gangly chairs in the room and pulled it closer to the bed before sitting down. Rather than grabbing the second pizza box, he opened up one of the sides of plain buffalo wings and set it next to where his brother was happily chomping down on his dinner, the cheese sticking to his overtly sharp teeth and quivering whiskers.

He stared at the black fur and the paw looking patterns one could see within it when the light hit it just so. He studied the golden slit eyes that looked to hold many alien secrets, knowing his brother was in there somewhere.

He still couldn't quite believe it. Though he'd seen it before and this time had gotten to view the process from the very beginning, he was still having a hard time accepting it could be real. One would think that the two of them having seen as much as they had in their lifetimes, this would have been easy to swallow. But it wasn't. It was one thing for supernatural monsters to do the impossible, it was a whole different prospect for it to be done by your own brother.

He rubbed momentarily at his chest knowing Dean hadn't been the only one involved in making the amazing transformation possible. He'd heard his brother murmur the Word, heard the others thrumming in the air around him, pulling at him. He'd felt the energy gather inside him them focus through him before coming out again and winding its way to his brother, triggering and feeding the transformation. During the change, he'd known what each pulse of power would achieve, and instinctively let go only what was needed. Information had bubbled inside him as if it had been with him all along. Yet the moment it wasn't needed anymore, it had left – veiled from him once more. It was very much like the experience back in Dallas. Though there he'd been more than a conduit -- there the deeds performed for the purification and the feeding of the forgotten god had been his own.

A thwap against his leg snapped him out of his reverie only to notice Dean staring at him over a dark furred shoulder, a buffalo wing held between pointed teeth. With a snap of his head, Dean sent the wing up into the air and then chomped down on it, chewing greedily, bones and all, staring at Sam the whole while. The tail thumped him again.

"Okay, okay, I get it. I'll eat. Sheesh." This was his brother all right. No doubt about it. Sam grabbed a wing out of the other set and ate it. The moment the chicken hit his mouth, he felt his hunger awaken, his brain shoving aside all the weirdness and thoughts, deciding it was time to take care of the baser necessities.

By the time he was done he was amazed to notice that not only had he eaten all of the wings, but the entire large pizza as well. He licked his fingers with a half smile, until he noticed Dean on the bed licking his paw in much the same way.

Sam got up and gathered the trash together and dumped it in the wastebasket. He was glad to note that he was feeling a lot more like his usual self. "Hey, Dean, how about changing back now?"

A hard thump against the mattress was his answer. He turned around to face his brother. "You don't actually think we're going to look for the woman now, do you? You'd be just a little inconspicuous in broad daylight. And I don't think there're that many jaguars in New Hampshire for you to go unnoticed."

Dean turned his feline face away from him, thumping his tail in annoyance again.

Sam sighed. When his brother got something into his head… Rather than argue, he dug into his duffel for a dog eared paperback. Ignoring Dean, he propped up the pillows on his bed and sat down to read. He'd been at it for about five minutes when a furry head butted against his elbow.

He didn't even bother to look at him. "No, Dean. Forget it. We're not going anywhere till nightfall. I don't want to have to try to explain you to animal services, thanks."

A heavy paw landed on his thigh. Sam continued reading. Four sharp points pricked through the jeans to the skin beneath. Sam forced himself to stay absolutely still, wanting to grimace. Putting as much acid into his voice as he could, he still kept his gaze glued to the book. "Dean, you better move that paw right now or be prepared to lose it."

The sharp points eased off his leg and the paw moved off.

Sam turned a page and was heartily hoping that was the end of it, when Dean butted his head against his elbow again. He hit it just right, sending a jolt of pain shooting up Sam's arm. "Dean! Shit!"

He rolled off the bed, the paperback falling to the floor. He cradled his arm rubbing the injured elbow. "You suck, you know that? I should let you be caught. Serve your ass right!"

Eager feline eyes turned in his direction.

"But I'm _not_." He grabbed the Impala's keys from where Dean had placed them when they first arrived and stomped toward the door. "Instead I'm going to leave your ass here to think about how stupid you're being."

Sam unlocked and opened the door, then slammed it behind him without looking back. Sometimes his brother could be such an idiot! He randomly picked a direction to follow down the hall and stomped away, cursing at his brother some more under his breath.

He could understand the whole attraction of being a jaguar and all, but it wasn't like they could really communicate while Dean was in that form. His brother couldn't go outside for risk of being shot or captured. He couldn't clean his guns, surf the net, build anything. So what was the point? It wasn't like New Hampshire would have any jungles for him to play in either.

He had a flash of memory of the dream the night before, the one where the two of them had been running together.

Okay, yeah, that had been fun. But it'd been a dream, not reality. You didn't go running in the streets with a jaguar in the US. Just wasn't done.

He turned right at the corner.

And what if Dean couldn't turn back? Shouldn't they make sure? The whole process didn't seem to have taken out that much out of his brother, and he'd be willing to feel a little tired and breathless just to be certain.

A sudden thought brought him to a stop just as he neared the lobby of the inn. With his physical aspect changed so radically, could they maybe use this as a way to bypass the deal? Even as the idea occurred to him he dismissed it. He doubted it was his brother's body they would use to track him down, but rather the prize they sought. Yet it was still something to keep in mind if he hadn't found something better when the time came.

There had to be a way to get Dean out of his contract.

Sam was grateful as hell to be alive again, but not if it would take his brother away from him to be tormented for eternity. There must be a way to make this right. There had to be something he wasn't seeing.

He nodded to the woman behind the counter at the lobby never really seeing her, and stood for a while staring out the sheer curtained windows of the sitting area up front. There just had to be something…

And instead of looking for it, he was here, searching for some woman they had little chance of finding, in order to help her with who knew what. He could almost feel the seconds slipping through his fingers. What little time he had left to spend with his brother or find a solution wasted away, not getting them anywhere.

He turned away from the window, the need to see Dean again, regardless of his form, worming through him. The more time passed and the closer they came to the fateful day the more this desire seemed to intrude. He wanted, or better put, _had_ to capture every moment, every quirky smile, every stupid joke or half assed comment that he could, as if he could tuck them away somewhere to bring them out later when the real thing would no longer be available to him. He loved his brother, and more, he even liked him. All his little quirks, his likes and dislikes, he was so different from Sam he was able to give him a different perspective on so many things. Like Jess, he could keep him from getting to mired in stuff, drag him out of himself when required. And the more he tried to deny his need to be with his brother, the stronger the feeling got. Dean would probably laugh at him if he ever dared admit to it. Not that he ever would.

A small shop just outside the lobby drew Sam's attention as he started back. It was a little shop with wrapped breakfast and snack items, but also fresh pots of coffee. Knowing Dean hadn't had his usual infusion of caffeine since early that morning, he got an idea. He asked for two large cups to go.

Barely able to hold the two containers in one hand, Sam used the keycard on the door, and let himself into the room. As he closed the door behind him, he realized the TV was on. A brow rising in surprise, he spotted Dean spread out on his bed, a large paw laying claim to the remote control. Aside from a flicker of ears swinging momentarily in his direction, his brother ignored him.

"Thought you might be thirsty." Sam shuffled past to the desk on the room's far side. "Got you a coffee." He set one of the covered cups there.

A half snort was the only comment he got. With a long, sinewy stretch, Dean stood up on all fours then jumped to the floor. Sam moved to the side, watching him carefully, hoping the power of caffeine would get his brother to decide to cooperate.

Nose sniffing at the air, Dean approached the table. Lifting himself up, he placed his two front legs over the top of the table, standing on his hind ones.

"But, gee, I guess as a cat, you can't really have any now, can you?" Sam kicked himself mentally, realizing the comment came out way more sarcastic than he'd meant it too.

Dean glanced back at him, his yellow eyes narrowed to slits. Then turning back around, he lifted a paw and tipped over the cup, knocking off the top. As coffee went everywhere, he casually licked up whatever came his way.

Okay…guess that didn't work out quite as he'd hoped. Sam took a slow sip of his own drink, not sure what to try next. Dean kept licking up the spilled coffee as fast as his large tongue and the hot liquid would allow.

With another slit look in Sam's direction, his brother eventually dropped from the table back to all fours. He sauntered over toward him then bounded forward to push Sam with his head in the direction of the nearest bed. Caught off guard, Sam struggled not to trip and to keep his coffee from spilling. Half falling on the bed, he sent his brother a dirty look. "Dean, knock it off!"

He could have sworn he saw his brother grin at him right before he half turned and used his tail to knock the mostly filled cup out of his hand to smash against the wall sending liquid everywhere.

Shocked, Sam stared at the cream colored wall as coffee dripped down it to the floor. "Dean, what the…?" Turning to look at him, the words died as he saw the self satisfied smug look on his feline face. "You know what? That's it!" He shot to his feet. "I've been putting up and putting up and putting up with your sorry ass crap for months now, and honestly, _I've had it_!"

Dean's head turned up to the side as if asking him what he planned to do about it.

That was the last straw.

Sam threw himself the short distance between them and tackled his brother's long feline body to the carpet.

They rolled over the floor and Sam's back smacked into the air conditioning unit, but paid it no attention. Paws scrambled over him trying to get upright and away, and he pushed to keep Dean down.

Rolling back the other way, struggling to get the upper hand, they ended up getting on the bed, falling off the other side, and up again. A couple of claws momentarily pierced his jeans over his right butt cheek making Sam give an unexpected yelp.

"Cheater!" Retaliation soon followed with a hard yank on a pointed ear, giving Sam an exhalation of feline breath right in the face.

As chairs, bedding, duffles, were pushed, pulled, and rolled over, Sam forgot his previous ire, replaced by something which visited him but rarely – true unadulterated enjoyment. A laugh escaped him as he tried even harder to pin his squirming furry brother down. It wasn't often they got to play and Dean didn't get to say anything.

This was the type of things he lived for, those rare moments of belonging of things feeling just right, moments that were to be kept and treasured forever. Moments he would soon not have an opportunity to find anymore.

His mood soured as if a switch had been flipped. He quit struggling, sadness overriding him like a wave. He shouldn't be doing this, feeling suddenly like this. He was wasting this opportunity. It occurred to him that the transformation must have taken more out of him than he thought, but knowing why made him feel no better.

As if feeling the change, Dean stopped as well, his legs and paws half wrapped around Sam's body.

His brother's fur felt rough yet soft at the same time. Dean was here, now, even if in another form -- though soon he wouldn't be. Sam was throwing this chance away, but the fact only made him more depressed. He wrapped his arms around his brother's mutated form, not caring what he was, or what he looked like, only that he was there. His warmth, his loud heartbeat, all proclaimed his sibling was alive and well.

Tears prickled at his eyes and he tried to hold them back, getting emotional the last thing he wanted or that they needed just now. After a moment, he hid his face in Dean's pelt, not wanting him to see as the tears that came anyway. His throat grew tight, the feelings welling inside him suddenly overflowing. "I'm going to miss you so _much_…"

Sam was quietly grateful his brother couldn't speak. He didn't think he could handle some smart-ass comment or flippant response from him just then. Dean totally hated emotional displays.

So he was greatly surprised when a rasping tongue gently licked at his hair, paws clamping him tight. Sam buried his face deeper into his brother's chest and wept.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Dean wished jaguars could purr. He didn't know why they couldn't but he really wished they could. He stared at his brother's sleeping form with half closed eyes, lounging beside him on the bed, content. Energizing the transformation had taken more out of Sam than either of them realized. His total loss of control had spoken volumes. Though Sam tried hard to get Dean to open up whenever he felt something was on his mind, he was very tight with his own problems.

By the time Sammy had been able to get himself back together, it'd only taken Dean a prod or two to get him to plop on the bed. He'd been out like a light in less than a minute.

He had truly hoped Sammy wouldn't suffer his 'soon to be leave taking' so hard. For him to live Dean had to go. End of story. Was it truly so difficult to understand? They were getting a year. It was a better deal than their father got. And Sammy was the more independent of the two of them, and in the end the more important. He was the one with possible powers, the one who might be able to do the most against the demon hordes out there, which had to be stopped. Dean would make the same choice even with a do over.

The hotel room grew gradually dark, though it proved of little impediment to his vision as far as he could tell. Being a jaguar was just too damn _cool_.

Darkness also meant they could finally get down to business. Time to wake his little brother up.

Dean sat up on the bed then ran his wide tongue over Sam's exposed face.

The reaction of wet sandpaper against soft cheek was almost immediate.

"Ahh! Dammit, Dean!" Sam pulled away quickly almost falling to the floor in his haste to get away from the wet and scratchy wakeup call.

Yeah, he definitely wished he could purr.

He leapt past his brother and moved to sit by the door, gazing back at Sam expectantly.

His brother stared at him frowning, glanced at the clock, then looked away his cheeks coloring slightly. "You shouldn't have let me sleep so long…"

Dean shrugged not sure what that had to do with anything. Besides, he was sure Sammy needed the sleep. He pawed at the doorknob. He was positive he could finesse the sucker open, but it would just be easier if his brother did it.

"Give me a minute." Sam ducked into the bathroom. He came back out a few minutes later a damp towel in hand. He scrubbed at the wall where the coffee Dean spilled had dried, then the table and the carpet around it. As if that was even something to think about. Come on, Sammy, time to go!

When Sam came back out of the bathroom the second time, he pulled out the Impala's keys. "Don't just rush out, okay, Dean? It might be dark outside but not in the hallway. I think there's a side exit we can take."

Dean moved back away from the door, already knowing there was no one out there. He would have heard or smelled them if there was. He did find it slightly amusing that Sam was doing his best not to look at him directly. It wasn't often his little bro got embarrassed over something he'd done. He'd have to remember to milk it later.

Hurrying down the hall once he'd opened the door and checked the hall, the two of them made their way to the side exit and out onto the parking lot. It worked to their advantage that he'd parked the car as far away from that pink building as possible, for the exit put them right by it.

Sam opened the Impala's driver's door and Dean climbed on inside. "Just stay low till we get out of the parking lot, all right?"

Dean thumped Sam on the arm with his tail. Like duh!

"Would you cut it out already? That damn tail of yours is leaving bruises all over me, dude."

Dean coughed in amusement, not able to help himself. It echoed like a canon inside the car's interior.

"_Dean_!"

He hunkered down and tried hard to look contrite though it was really hard.

Sam started the car and they drove out.

Dean raised his head just enough for his nose to almost reach the window so he could look out. As Sam turned onto the main road, Dean spotted a place totally vital to their continued existence. He smacked the dash twice with a paw to get his brother's attention.

"What? What's wrong?"

He put his nose to the glass and smacked the dash again. Come on Sammy! Golden arches, dude!

"McDonalds? Is that what you're pointing at?"

Duh! Another smack to the dash. This talking without words was harder than he figured it would be.

"Uhm, yeah, dinner…huh."

Food! Food! Food! Must have food! Feed me, Seymour!

Sam turned on Lawrence and into the McDonald's parking lot, but not into the drive thru lane. He parked as far away from any lights as possible.

"Hide down on the floorboard, okay? I'll be right back." He got halfway out of the car before turning back around a serious look on his face. "And no funny business either, Dean. I mean it!"

Did he _always_ have to take all the fun out of everything? Dean slinked down onto the floorboard out of sight. It was a very tight fit.

Sam nodded and closed the door.

He came back a few minutes later with bags filled with the glorious smell of french fries and quarter pounders with cheese. There had better be extra onions on those too.

Sam took out a pack of fries and opened the box for three of the burgers and placed them on the seat. They were gone in less than a minute. Licking his teeth, Dean glanced over at his brother to make sure he was eating, which he was, and also to nose around and see if there were any quarter pounders left.

"I got you an apple pie." Sam fished the red tube like package out of the last bag and slipped the flaky crusted dessert onto a napkin for him. Smelled awesome. Tasted even better.

"And some water." He held out an open topped cup so he could lick out the liquid.

Who said little brothers weren't good for something.

Sam grabbed up all the garbage and threw it away. He glanced at Dean for a second then sighed softly. "I guess we better get on with it." He leaned over the seat and rolled down the passenger window and then his own. Starting up the Impala, he headed on over to Merrimack.

They drove the streets of the town one at a time. Dean sat low in the seat but with his nose close to the window trying to pick up the scent of their query. The farther they got from the center of town, the more trees crowded the place. Roads turned into small two lane blacktops winding over the land in many places coming to unexpected dead ends.

"Anything yet?"

Dean shook his head no. He thought he would have caught a whiff of that cinnamon scent by now. They'd covered most of the streets on the north side and were about to start on the south. Eventually they hit Pilgrim Avenue and Powerhouse Road. Dean had slipped a glance in Sammy's direction a few minutes before when they'd gone down Jessica Drive. Sam had looked as intent there as anywhere else in town.

This new street was filled with the same well spaced, two story homes they'd seen elsewhere. He wasn't holding too much hope for this one, seeing a dead end at the end of the road, when something tickled his nose enticingly. Sitting up higher in the seat, he let his nose drag the air in and his brain take the smells within it apart. There was the scent of shallow water, decaying local plants, and others he'd smelled before but not here -- scents of plants that belonged to the dream of the day before, dreams of South American jungles. And beneath it, hidden almost as an afterthought, was what they'd come all this way to find.

Dean smacked the dash with a paw and stuck his head fully out the window.

"You found it?"

Dean smacked the dash again, sending an excited glance back toward his brother. He pointed with his paw straight ahead. A large split-level home was planted dead at the end of the road. Jutting out of either side from the back, where what could be parts of a greenhouse.

Sam drove up to the driveway and came to a stop. "Is this it?"

Dean took several deep lungfuls. Yes, the cinnamon scent was definitely coming from that place. He glanced back at him and bobbed his head.

Sam stared at the house for several long moments then slowly nodded. "Okay… We can come back tomorrow morning and talk to her."

Dean slipped totally back inside the car and gave a half grunt. What did he mean come back tomorrow morning? He slapped the handle on the door. They should go see her now!

"Think for a minute, will you? We can't go see her like this. Unless you want to stay in the car?"

A low growl answered that question quick enough.

"And yeah, I know you could change back now, but before you start with all that, going over there naked is not going to make this go any better."

Dean blinked, Sam's words not making any sense for a moment. He wasn't naked. Then he realized that if he changed he would be – as naked as a new born babe. He hadn't brought any clothes with him. Damn.

He wondered if Sam had realized this all along and hadn't said anything before they left on purpose. Probably not, now that he thought about it. After all, it was Sam who was in a hurry to get this job over with. None too happy, Dean slumped down in the seat to sulk.

"So I take it for once you're willing to see reason?"

Dean glared at him. This can't talk business was suddenly getting old. He'd have a few choice words for his brother once he could speak again. He smacked him with his tail just because he could.

Sam smacked him back. "Jerk!"

_Bitch!_

He supposed being a jaguar had to have some drawbacks.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Sam was finally going to get his way and get his brother back to normal. But having learned some lessons after the first time, he planned to be somewhat more prepared for Dean's journey back. On the way to the hotel, he pulled over into a convenience store that was still open, and after parking in the darkest spot he could find, bought a hefty supply of sandwiches, chips, snacks and energy drinks. He didn't plan to allow himself to get anywhere near as drained and out of control as the last time.

Dean had stretched himself all the way across the bench seat by the time he came out with the bags.

"Uhm, wanna move over so I can get in, please?" His brother didn't even have the decency to glance in his direction. "Dean, it's not like you thought about it either, okay? And it's late enough it would have been rude anyway."

Still nothing. Sam tried hard not to sigh but it was hard going. Putting the bags in the back seat, he then slipped inside and wedging himself painfully beneath the steering wheel just sat on him. Clawed feet scrambled uselessly for a moment or two and then removed themselves altogether. Yellow eyed glares with hints of green from the parking lot lights flashed in his direction.

This time Sam did sigh as he slipped the key into the ignition. This could turn out to be a long night.

Once back at the inn, Sam parked the Impala back in the same far slip as before. Unfortunately the side exit was only one way.

"Just wait around the corner for me, okay? I'll go in the main way and come open the door from the inside." His brother wasn't looking at him, instead watching everything else. "Dean…_don't_ make me have to go looking for you." He laced his voice with as much warning as he could manage. Last thing he wanted was a late night hunt for an AWAL jaguar. "_Dean_…"

Bare slits of golden eyes glanced his way for a moment. Sam felt his shoulders relax. "Be right back."

Making his stride as long as possible, Sam hurried indoors, bags nestled in his arms. A minute or so later, he pushed the exit door open and stuck his head out. "Dean."

A large black body almost rammed into him as it slipped deftly inside. His brother continued on down the hall, not waiting for him.

"Hold up!" Sam rushed to catch up praying no one would suddenly decide to leave their rooms just now.

It was with some relief that he opened the door to theirs and closed it behind him, putting them out of sight. "You know, you're not making this easy one bit. And what's worse is I think you're doing it to me on purpose."

Dean jumped up on the nearest bed and gave him something Sam could only assume was a feline version of an innocent look.

"That's what I thought…" Sam took the bags to the small table and set everything out. Taking a deep breath, he slowly turned around. "Dean, I think it's time."

His brother gave a loud yawn, showing off his large set of teeth and wide tongue.

He'd been afraid of this. But luckily he'd thought of a tactic that should work. It was a little below the belt, but no less true. "The sooner you change back, the better the chance I'll have the time I'll need to recoup from it."

The feline head snapped to look in his direction, the yellow eyes wide. A moment later, Dean glanced down in a nod.

Sam walked over to the opposite bed and sat facing his brother. "I'm ready whenever you are."

Dean crossed his paws and rested his head between them, sending an unhappy glance in Sam's direction.

Surely being a large jungle cat couldn't be so much fun, could it? Sam felt guilty, as if he were taking away a kid's toy. Dean needed to change back though. No matter how much he might not want to. "You have to start it. I can't do my bit if you don't."

Large claws flexed on the bed spread once then the eyes closed. Suddenly Sam felt that weird juxtaposition of realities. The air changed around him, thicker and cleaner all at once. He felt once more the weight of the medicine bag against his chest, housing the spirits that would help him change his brother back.

He wasn't caught off guard this time as the gentle tug for power connected him to his brother. Words sprang to lips and he wove a song, which bubbled from some long forgotten past, easing the collecting power from him to where it needed to go.

On the bed, Dean spoke Words Sam couldn't hear but could feel and see as they worked a change on his brother. His body stretched, the fur shrinking, his form turning wavery as if seen through distorted glass.

Sam felt his breathing grow labored, perspiration breaking at his brow and armpits. Though he wasn't moving, what they did still sapped him as if he'd been working physically for hours. The idea flickered past that with offerings he might be able to entice other gods or spirits of the Maya to help offset the strain on him. He didn't have the proper items though – money, alcohol, food, sweets.

Dean's form slowly solidified into a familiar shape. Yellow eyes turned hazel. Dark skin turned white again, the face settling back with a sprinkling of barely seen freckles to the beloved form once more.

It was done.

His brother was himself, as he should be.

"You are the biggest party pooper ever, you know that, Sammy?" Dean snatched at the pair of shorts he'd discarded hours ago.

Yes, his brother was definitely back. Despite how tired he felt, Sam couldn't help a small smile from flickering on his face. "We should eat. Keep our strength up."

Sam moved to stand up and the room decided to follow him then spun to the right. Suddenly he couldn't tell which end was up and though he was trying not to fall, he wasn't quite sure how not to do that.

"Whoa! Sam!"

A hand grabbed him from somewhere and eased him back down onto the bed.

"You just sit there. I'll get the stuff. Stay!"

Sam had no intention of going anywhere. Now if only the room would decide that as well. He closed his eyes, hoping that would help and forced several deep breaths into his lungs. Things felt a little steadier after that.

"Here."

Something cool touched his hand so he grabbed for it. Half opening one eye, in case the room was still dancing, he saw it was one of the energy drinks. He brought it to his lips and chugged it down.

Dean was munching on a sandwich as he brought one over for Sam. He ate it and everything else his brother brought him. No way was he going to allow himself to be as weak as the last time. Having another emotional gusher was not in the cards as far as he was concerned. Not again, and especially not with Dean in human form. There were things Sam had learned which he hadn't told his brother. Things about Mom and those who'd known her, also the fact he was being actively hunted by demons who wanted him out of the way, and that he was despairing of ever finding a way to fulfill his promise to get his brother out of his deal.

No, he couldn't allow any vulnerability to show, no weakness. He wanted Dean to fight to live, but not out of guilt, not out of obligation, but because he wanted to. It was the only way they'd stand a chance.

So after he ate the last of the food, he avoided any direct eye contact with his brother and promptly went to bed. If Dean ever had to change again, which Sam hoped to heaven and back he wouldn't, he'd have to make sure to be better prepared. The risk of having his secrets exposed in a moment of weakness was just too great.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Dean sat in the chair in the corner, his foot tapping impatiently. The sun had been up for several hours, but his brother had still to show any signs of stirring. Loath to wake him in case he really needed the sleep, Dean had gotten dressed, left and cruised the nearby streets for a decent cup of coffee and also some breakfast. His was already long gone and Sam's probably gelled enough he wouldn't touch it when he did get up.

He wasn't sure if he should be worried that Sam wasn't up yet or relieved he could actually get some rest. He was itching to go though, to get this mission moving, though not for the same reasons his brother wanted it. Dean was going to die – that was the truth, end of story. So in the time he had left he wanted to see things, experience stuff, and more than anything, get as rid of as much bad stuff hunting the night as he could get his hands on. It would mean less mosters out there killing people and less crap for Sammy to worry about when he was gone.

He considered going outside and giving Baby an impromptu tune up but that would mean being seen out by the ugly pink building. That just wouldn't do. And he wasn't sure he could concentrate on the car properly anyway. The way Sam had choked down everything in sight and then just up and went to bed wasn't like him. And the fact he was drained was Dean's fault. Least he could do was be here and make sure his brother didn't try to fall down again as he had last night.

He slouched with a sigh in the uncomfortable chair, wishing he were still a jaguar. For lounging around doing nothing, the large feline shape had been fabulous. He could totally relax and splay out and still look utterly cool. He could easily picture himself laying under the shade by a clear luscious pool and becoming a total chick magnet. Most women dug cats, right?

He snorted with delight just thinking about it.

"If you put itching powder in my pants again, you better clean them up _now_."

Dean glanced up and saw Sam staring at him from the bed. He snorted again, this time with a touch of disdain. "Dude, the world does _not_ revolve around you. Was picturing me a rather nice scene with several girls, if you must know."

Sam sat up, swinging his feet out of the bed. "Actually…I think I rather not."

Dean tensed minutely as his brother rose up to his feet. No swaying, no puzzled look as if the sky had turned day glow green or anything. Things seemed okay. He twisted his neck to loosen up the knotted muscles there.

"What time is it anyway?" Sam turned to glance at the clock.

Dean told him anyway. "Ten forty five."

A scowling disapproving look flashed in his direction. "Why'd you let me sleep so late?"

He shrugged. "Why'd you have to sleep so late?"

Sam just shook his head and opened one of the drawers to grab some clothes. "I'll just take a super quick shower and then we can go, okay?"

He didn't even wait for an answer before making a beeline to the miniscule bathroom.

Less than twenty minutes later they were retracing their way back to the house they found last night. If they'd driven by in the daytime, they would have known it was the place at once.

Lush lawn, well manicured bushes, lots of pebbles in the drive, but what was subtle, what you had to know about to spot it was the colors. The house was yellow with white trim, with the window shutters in black. The door itself was red. All four shades which embodied the colors of the Maya. They signified the main directions of the compass, the types of maize, the parts of the body, the colors worn by Ix Chel.

"I guess that kind of confirms we've come to the right place?" Sam sent him a look.

"Seems like."

The Impala shut down with a loud rumble and they got out.

The pebbled driveway crunched underfoot as they made their way to the stone pathway leading to the door.

Taking the three steps up to the partially covered entryway, Dean reached forward and rang the doorbell. He could feel Sam standing just behind and to the side rather than beside him. Looked like he would be doing the talking today.

They didn't have to wait long before someone answered the door.

"Yes? May I help you?"

Dean wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it definitely hadn't been this guy. Late twenties, blond, built like a surfer with the shorts, bright colored shirt, dorky smile and hairstyle to match. Didn't this guy know they were in New Hampshire not California? Heck, he even had a tan.

"Hi there, Mr…"

Sam piped in from the back. "Evans."

Dean was surprised his brother knew the guy's name until he threw a glance back over his shoulder at Sam and the latter did a head tilt in the direction of the mailbox at the start of the drive. Dean forged on ahead. "We're here to see your wife."

The guy blinked once and stared at the two of them a slightly disbelieving look on his face. "I'm sorry. But my wife hasn't been feeling very well lately. Could you come back another day?"

"We're here to help."

Now he looked confused. "Help with what?"

Sam took half a step forward. "Please, sir, we really need to talk to your wife. She's been waiting for us."

"She never said anything to me about it." His face closed up. "Who are you people anyway?"

Dean slipped a little to the side so Sam could come to the fore. Putting people at ease was his forte.

"My name is Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean. And we really are here to help your wife. If you would just get her, I'm sure we could straighten this out right away." Sam's tone and expression were earnest.

Doubt then a softening of the edges played on Mr. Evans' face. "All right…"

Dean had always been impressed with how Sammy's puppy dog eyes could just make people do whatever he wanted. The more sincere his feelings the more power they held. He should know, his kid brother had been using them on him all his life – always made it real hard to deny him anything. Thankfully Sammy had never really abused it. It was that guilt thing he normally had going on which held him back. If Dean had been born with that ability instead…Well….Let's just say he doubted there would be many a day he'd have to get out of bed before he was ready…

"She's out in the greenhouse. We can go around the house." Evans stepped out and closed the door behind him as if willing to trust them only so far. Guess his wife didn't get many visitors.

"Thank you."

Dean shook his head as the sound of flip-flops accompanied them as Evans took them around back. The edges of the greenhouse they'd seen from up front rose before them, showing a huge structure a few feet behind the house, which took up most of the extensive backyard.

Evans led them to a pair of glass and plastic covered doubled doors set in the middle of the green house. Steam and humidity wafted out as he opened them. The scent of vegetation was heavy, and though Dean wasn't totally sure, he thought he detected something rotting underneath.

Sweat broke out on the side of his face the moment they stepped inside. Dean took off his leather jacket, draping it over one arm. Sam did the same with his white and blue striped shirt a few moments later. The internal weather was almost oppressive.

Green was everywhere. Plants Dean recognized from the dream and others he was sure only grew in the tropics were in abundance. He and Sam exchanged glances thinking the same thing – this was definitely where they were supposed to be.

In the center of the greenhouse, there was a small above ground plastic pool with water plants floating inside it. Sitting on a short stool, staring into the dark surface in an almost identical display to the dream, was the person they'd come to find.

"Honey, there're some people here to see you. They said you were expecting them?" Evans kept himself between his wife and them. Dean didn't miss the tightening of his shoulders, as if working himself up to having to throw them out as soon as she told him she had no idea who they were.

The woman looked up from the water, her eyes red as if from crying. The chocolate colored skin with tinge of red, the thick dark hair falling in ringlets to her shoulders, the sad look permeating her face – Dean recognized her immediately.

As her deep brown eyes widened in surprise and lack of recognition, he found himself saying the first thing that popped into his head. "The Lady of the Rainbows sent us. We're here to help you."

She jumped to her feet, her extended belly almost pitching her forward to the floor. Evans made a grab for her and steadied her, a concerned look on his face. The woman didn't seem to know her husband was there, though, her gaze locked on him. "The Lady?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Dean saw her lip quiver and her eyes suddenly dilate so he leapt forward just as her knees gave out from under her. Between him and Evans they were able to keep her off the floor and quickly settled her back on the stool.

"Lanah, honey, are you all right? What's going on? Who are these people?" Evans tried covertly to push Dean away from his wife, but she'd grabbed hold of his arm and wasn't letting go. Dean saw her eyes focus again as she turned her head up to stare at him. The scent of cinnamon he'd used to find her clung about her like incense.

"She's touched you!"

He wasn't sure if it was an exclamation or accusation.

Her gaze turned toward Sam. "And you!"

"I want both of you out of here." Evans' turned toward the two of them, not looking pleased. "You're upsetting her. I want you out now!" He tried to pull her to him, but she resisted, still hanging onto Dean.

She turned to look at him. "Darren, no! It's all right. They just surprised me, is all. I'm fine. Please."

"Lanah, the baby. You know what the doctor said. Stress is bad for you." He tried to use his body to block her view of them.

He was starting to annoy the heck out of Dean.

"Darren, _please_." She sounded close to tears. "They can assist me with the plants. You know how much they mean to me. Please. They only want to help."

"This is about that woman, isn't it?" Though Dean couldn't see Darren's face, it was plain he was angry. He let go of his wife. "You're going to tell them what she did to hurt you but still keep me in the dark, aren't you?"

"No, Darren, it's not like that!"

Dean's hand closed into a fist. Sam got to the husband before Dean was too tempted to do something rash.

His brother clamped a hand on the guy's shoulder, squeezing tight. "I thought you said your wife shouldn't be put under any undue stress."

Evans tried to shrug Sam off but couldn't. Red shot up his neck into his face, even his ears coloring. He would no longer look at his wife. "_Fine_." He tried to shake Sam off again and this time his brother allowed it. "I should go in to work today for a few hours anyway. Call me if you need me."

Not looking at any of them, Darren stalked away and left.

Dean only let his hand relax once the man was well out of sight. "Asshole."

"No. He has every right…" Lanah let go of his arm, her hand dropping limply to her lap. "I've kept…secrets from him." Despair and inner turmoil oozing down her face, she glanced up at him.

Dean felt his heart lurch, only too intimate with the emotions he was seeing.

"It's my own fault." She slowly shook her head. "He's really a good man. There are just things I never shared with him. Things I don't think he'd believe or be able to understand. Though to be honest I've never given him the chance. And now…" She stared down at the hands in her lap.

Sam came up close and knelt down before her to bring himself to her level, an unhappy yet determined look on his face. "Lanah, I don't mean to pressure you, but time is short." His gaze met hers. "We were asked to come here to help you, but we've no idea what it is you need. Would you fill us in?"

The young woman nodded, wiping away at her face for tears that never actually fell. The white and blue flowered print dress made her dark paling skin look even more so. Dean wasn't sure she was entirely well, above and beyond her obvious distress. "Do you need anything? Would you be more comfortable inside the house?"

"No, I'm…" She placed both hands protectively over her swollen belly. "We're okay." She tried to give them a smile. "I'm just grateful you're here. Though I'm not sure you can actually help me."

"Why don't you tell us what you can, then we can go from there."

Lanah nodded turning her head to stare once more at the water as if looking for her center. After a couple of moments, her face cleared a little and she turned back toward them.

"I was…I was entrusted to keep something safe. And now it's gone."

"What was it?" Dean couldn't think of anything she could have had that would entice the intervention of a possible goddess.

"The Heart. My old village's Heart."

Dean traded confused glances with Sam. Then something tickled the back of his mind, a hidden memory rising for inspection. "The nawal?"

Sam's brows went up.

"Yes!" Color darkened her cheeks. She looked better than before. "It was entrusted to me by our shaman. He said I had enough talent to keep it alive. He, and the other diviners, they foresaw the end of the village. That it would be a victim of the cleansings."

Dean remembered some of the information Sam had found on the Maya when they were in Dallas and the racial cleansings that happened in Guatemala and other sections of South America in the 80's. Seemed some people didn't take too well with the indigenous people wanting to hang onto their old ways rather than embracing those of 20th century.

"But if the Heart could be kept alive, then someday, too, the village would return."

"I'm sorry, could we back up a bit?" Sam said. "What's a nawal? What is this Heart exactly?"

"It's hard to explain." Lanah's brows drew together as she tried to find the words. "It…it's a power bundle. It's the core, the seed which creates the village. With it, the village can be. But it's more than that, too. The village itself, it becomes real, a spirit. The more the village gives homage to the gods, the more they create, the more powerful the Heart becomes. And in times of great need, it can at times manifest corporeally in our image to help the village."

Dean found himself nodding, everything sounding right. "Yeah, what she said. You should know all this already, Sammy."

His brother sent him another set of raised brows accompanied by an incredulous look. He then turned his attention back to her. "How were you able to smuggle something like that out of the country? Wouldn't this have been in the early 80's?"

Lanah nodded. "It was. And I only got out because I'd been adopted. My mother was an anthropologist. She'd been doing some long term research on the Maya before the government started discouraging that sort of thing. I'd lost my real family during an accident when I was very young. Many were lost. Rebecca pitched in and tried to help the village and one of the ways she did so was by adopting me." A far away look swept over her eyes, her love for her adopted mother coming through loud and clear.

"Did she know about the Heart?"

"Of course! She'd been adopted herself by the village. She, she understood things. She was willing to learn the Maya ways and practice them rather than just watch or judge. She never told anyone we had it, knowing how important it was to keep it safe, so that someday it might return home."

"So only your mother and you knew you had it? Your husband didn't know?"

She shook her head. "No. I never told him. And my mother died a couple of years ago. So only I knew of it, or so I thought." Her hand rubbed her expanded stomach as if the child inside felt the same as she did. "I have to get it back. It's all that's left. And if not treated right, if not taken care of properly…"

Dean remembered how the jade mask had turned ugly and twisted, not fed the honey of creation, forgotten, belittled, alone. It had been strong enough to entice a man to murder others in its name. What would the Heart of a village be able to accomplish if angry? He had the very strong feeling he didn't really want to know.

"Already its power is leaving this place, changing it. Can you feel it?" She gazed past them at the plants all around.

Dean glanced around as well. Remembering his other senses, he took a deep breath. It was filled with the strong scent of vegetation, but beneath, stronger this time, something putrid. Some of the plants were dying. Now that he realized it was there, he could see other signs -- curled leaves on ferns and other plants, a brown rim on some of the bigger trees' leaves, fruit with spreading dark spots. The place was ill.

"Yes. I can." Sammy sounded surprised as if not having expected to. Didn't surprise Dean one bit that he could.

"So you kept it here?" he asked.

"I thought what better place to hide it than in the middle of my work?"

Sam nodded. "You're a botanist then?"

"Yes." Again she glanced at the sick plants around her, a forlorn look on her face. "And miracles happened here. Many of these species should not have thrived as they did. It was like having a piece of home with me always. It was hope."

And someone had ripped it from her. Dean's fist clenched again. "Do you know who took it? Does it have something to do with the woman your husband mentioned?"

"Yes." There was a hitch to her voice. "She…she claimed to be from the university. Doing a piece on graduated alumni. We chatted for hours. She was so interested. I never suspected anything…" Her eyes filled with misery and recrimination. She wouldn't look at them directly, her failure almost a palpable weight. "I was gone only a few minutes. Went inside to get us something to drink. When I came back, she was gone. And so was the Heart." Lanah looked at the two of them. "She shouldn't have been able to find it!"

Dean's gut tightened as a bad feeling stole over him. But no way, no way could it be her. "Can you tell us what she looked like?"

Lanah took a deep shuddering breath. "She was young, twenty three or so? Blonde. Pale skin. Deep brown eyes. Very intent."

Dean felt his eye twitch. The bad feeling deepened. But no, it couldn't be her. She wasn't a blonde, not that that would ever stop her. And Lanah hadn't mentioned her having an accent, not that that would stop her either. Surely fate wouldn't be so cruel though.

He felt his mouth go dry. "Do you remember her name?"

Lanah nodded. "It was rather usual, actually. Elba Bloatt?"

Dean glanced at Sam. He found his brother doing the same. Crap. He was thinking the same thing -- it was an anagram. "Bela Talbot."

"Oh this just keeps getting better and better." You could have cut Sam's sarcasm with a knife.

"Yeah, you'd think she could be a little more original."

Sam stared back at him a brow arching high and a disbelieving look on his face.

Dean didn't get it. "What?"

Lanah stared from one to the other and back. "You know this woman?"

"In a manner of speaking." Why did it have to be her? Yet even as he asked himself that he could see why Ix Chel had picked them. They were already acquainted with the guilty party and it would make the hunt easier. Not that such things necessarily worked where Bela was concerned. What she was though was trouble. "Let's just say we've, uhm, run into her before."

"She's a thief. And she doesn't care who she hurts to get what she wants." Sammy's tone wasn't kind. Not that he blamed him. Bela had shot him after all. That had been one surreal day at Black Rock. More so because he hadn't grabbed her by the throat and throttled her after she dared to try to put a bullet in his brother, graze or not. That had caused him to lose some sleep at least a night or two afterwards and he'd never been able to make any sense of it. She'd had it coming, yet he hadn't given her what she deserved. He'd never been able to figure out why. The fact she'd stolen a mother load of winning scratch off tickets hadn't helped any either.

"So you think you can find her? Get the Heart back?" Lanah's look of hope was almost painful to see.

"We'll try. Though she doesn't normally keep what she steals," Dean told her. "It may take a while to track back the buyer if it's already left her possession."

He saw Sam's face cloud over out of the corner of his eye. Not good. "Can you show us where the Heart was kept?"

"Yes. Of course." Lanah struggled to get up off of the stool and Dean jumped forward to help her.

She led them to the left side of the giant greenhouse to a large tree with roots that grew outside the ground almost making a small open walled house. Inside it, in the back, was a hole.

"There. The Heart was hidden there."

The tree's limbs drooped, the browning of the leaves worse on it than most others. Something vital had been taken from it and now it was dying.

Dean crouched down and slipped in past the roots sideways. He got as close to the hole as possible and inhaled. He smelled earth, rot, greenery, but also something more, something unique. His jaguar senses would have been able to make more of it, but at the moment it wasn't an option. Still, it would remain in his memory and he would know it if he smelled it again. It would have to do for now.

He pulled himself out and stood up again. "Lanah, I promise we'll do what we can to set things right again."

Her returning smile at his pronouncement lit up her entire face, making it as bright as a full moon nestled in velvet darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Sam picked at a loose thread on his jeans, his face tight, a frown drawing his eyebrows together. This wasn't turning out to be a quick job at all -- and for it to be Bela of all people.

His brother climbed into the car beside him, turning over the Impala's engine.

"Dean…you sounded way too confident on something we've entirely no clue about. I don't think it was right to get her hopes up like that. We may never find Bela, let alone what she did with the Heart."

He felt his brother's disbelieving stare pierce him where he sat. "Dude, she doesn't know we're involved. And she's too damn full of herself. That gives us an edge. She'll never know we're coming till it's too late."

Sam still didn't like it. Bela Talbot was bad news.

"Besides, we have new tricks up our sleeves this time. All we need is to catch her scent and she's toast." Dean grinned wide, reminding Sam of his brother's other self.

It didn't really make him feel better about the whole thing at all, even if Dean had a point.

They grabbed their stuff from the Comfort Inn but didn't check out expecting to be back and drove the four plus hours on down to Queens, New York and set themselves up in the cheapest motel they could find. They weren't planning to stay long.

"I'll go stake out her place and see if she's in town."

Sam nodded at his brother's suggestion, but doubted it would be so easy. Nothing ever was whenever that woman was involved.

"Meanwhile, why don't you rest? I'd like to give her a big surprise when she sees us." Dean's accompanying grin was wicked.

Sam felt his gut clench. "Do we really have to go there? Can't we just confront her as humans?"

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, where would be the fun in that? I want to scare her crapless. I _owe_ her." His eyes turned hard.

Sam sighed doubting he could talk Dean out of this. "Fine… I'll need to go out for a while then. I think I have an idea on how to make this a little less draining on myself."

"That's awesome!" Eyes dancing, Dean clapped him hard on the back. "Way to go, Sammy!"

Sam frowned, sure his wellbeing was not what his brother was thinking about right then, but rather about how he would be able to change more often if this worked. He sighed again. "Yeah, whatever."

"Here, you take the car. I'll take the subway." He tossed Sam the Impala's keys with a wink. "Just make sure to lock her up tight. This is New York after all. Call you in a bit."

Sam watched him go, frowning again, still not liking any of this, but having little choice about any of it.

A quick search on the net showed the location of several specialty shops that might have what he needed, so after writing a list with addresses, he went shopping.

He'd just gotten back to the drab motel room when his Q went off.

"Dean?"

"Dude, I'm telling you, we are so in the zone today."

Sam shook his head. "What the heck are you talking about?"

"She's here. The overconfident bitch is here."

His brother sounded way too happy about it. Sam just couldn't believe they'd actually found her this easily. Maybe he'd given her too much credit before. "Why don't we get this over with now then? I can meet you there in fifteen and find out what she knows."

"Nuh uh. No way, dude. After I 'fix it' so her car won't take her anywhere, I'm coming back. Then you and I will be doing a little mojo and tonight, tonight we're gonna have some fun."

Sam hung up not looking forward to it.

By the time Dean got back to the motel, Sam had things set up. He'd pushed one of the rickety tables to one corner of the room and placed matching wooden bowls in a half circle. Expensive cigars, liquor, candies and other tidbits of food filled each one. He'd also printed out stickers with Mayan symbols to identify the bowls and their contents. All of the Mayan system worked from Words. He wanted to hedge his bets as much as possible.

A tendril of perspiration rolled down his back, more nervous about what he was hoping to do than he would have thought. He'd performed a Mayan ceremony and summoned spirits to aid him once before, but back then Ix Chel had been in attendance, helping him with her power, making him remember. Though he knew she'd done something to them in the dream world this time around, he wasn't sure if she'd done anything more than just connect the two of them together so he could help Dean change. He hoped when the time came he would recall the past as before, but there were no guarantees.

Both times they'd had to deal with Bela before, she'd proved deft, quick, and totally untrustworthy. She was amoral and dangerous. Not the type of person he wanted to deal with when drained and not entirely himself. This had to work.

"Oh, hey! What's with the bowls?" Dean sauntered over to check out what he'd set up. "Booze and food! Dude!"

"Don't touch that!" Sam was forced to smack his brother's hand away as the latter reached for one of the pieces of candy.

"Ow! You _stingy_ bastard!"

"Dean, this isn't for me or you." Sam got between his brother and the table. "This is an offering. To help with the transformation."

His brother's brow went up. "It is?"

"Yes." He stepped forward to force Dean to step away a little further. "So don't mess with any of it, okay?"

A hurt little boy look crossed his brother's face. "You could've just said so in the first place you know."

"Like you gave me a chance before you were reaching for stuff?"

Dean looked away with a slightly abashed look. Didn't last long. "So can I go ahead and change now then?"

All of Sam's previous nervousness came crashing back. "I'll, I'll need a few minutes."

"Check." His brother grinned. "Gives me time to strip slow. But no peeking!"

Sam rolled his eyes and turned away. "As if." He pushed the hair away from his face and stared at the makeshift altar trying to relax. He attempted to clear his mind, letting the worry ease off his shoulders, trying to recall everything he could about the last time he'd done this. He needed to believe in Ix Chel, in the fact she'd given him what he'd require. He was connected to that otherworld, whether he could see it or not. He just had to call the spirits and they would come. He needed to create music with Words that would turn to honey. He must open his heart and mind to them, so they would see he was true, and ask them for their aid.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Dean took off his clothes, keeping tabs on his brother out of the corner of his eye. He was feeling that excitement again -- knowing he would once more turn into something other than himself. But as before, he could see that Sam didn't share his feelings. Totally the opposite, as a matter of fact. And there was more to it now. Sam was uneasy. Dean didn't exactly understand why since this weird set up of his was supposed to make things easier. Shouldn't that have caused his brother to be more relaxed instead of the other way around? Was there something about this his brother wasn't telling him?

He opened his mouth to say he'd changed his mind, that they could take Bela like normal people, when he saw his brother's entire demeanor change. The hunched stressed shoulders straightened, his head went up strong and confident, his hands and arms splayed themselves wide to the side as if welcoming something. Then he started talking. Not at Dean but in the direction of the bowls, at the air around him. Hesitantly at first, as if the foreign words weren't quite made for his mouth, yet the more of them that came to echo in the air, the more confident and strong they became. The Words began to ring like music around them.

He felt the hairs stand up on his arms, goose bumps not far behind. He remembered another place, another instance where Sam had sounded like this. And even to his non-supernatural senses he'd been able to tell his brother was filled with power, that things unseen had flocked around him. And so it was again.

They were no longer alone. And Sam had become more than just the youngest Winchester.

Dean could feel his heartbeat racing inside him suddenly growing anxious about what he was seeing and feeling. Maybe, just maybe, Sam felt something similar whenever Dean changed. It was more than weird seeing someone you dealt with everyday doing something so far from the already not normal norm.

"Dean, will the change…now!"

Without thinking he did as he was told, responding to the tone of command. Unlike before, he felt power push into him in a rush, the previous lazy river replaced by a cataract. The change burned through him, driving him to his knees as he gasped for breath. The Words jumbled over each other in his head as if trying to race one another to the end. The carpet beneath him changed to dirt and back again as if he were being dipped into the other worlds and back, a tug of war with him in the middle.

"Dean?"

Flickering vision showed his brother looking his way, his face a worried mask. Behind it, through it, meshed in it, he could see hundreds if not thousands of other men. Men connected to one another by the memories of ritual, of Words and creation, past, present, and future. They and the other beings of half seen shapes floating, zooming, crawling around, were sending power into his brother who then redirected it at him. He was drowning in it. He could feel himself unraveling from it.

Dean tried to open his mouth to try to convey what was going on, but couldn't. His tongue was too large for the half formed mouth, lying useless like a lead weight inside it, the muscles no longer attached correctly. He couldn't get air into his quivering lungs as they tried to retain their function even as they were prompted to change to something else. Parts of him were hot, others freezing, then they would swap sides. It was all going fubar and fast and there didn't seem to be a damn thing he could do about it.

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit!" The floor vibrated beneath him as Sam dropped beside him, his fear filling the air with scent and mixing with his own. "Just hang on. I'll fix this. Just hang on!"

Hands grabbed him and he could feel the flesh squish and squirm around them. The power driving into him slowed, then stopped, before some of it was actually siphoned back out of him. The Words stopped being jumbled, they moved into their proper order again. He could hear them inside himself and also coming from his brother as if being reinforced. The duet wove on and one by one things seemed to go to something like what they should be.

Eventually, all grew quiet. He wasn't entirely sure, but he might just have made it through this in one piece. But damn if he didn't feel like he'd been put through the wringer.

"Dean, are you okay?"

His brother's worried face intruded into his line of sight. He barely had the energy to nod.

"I'm so sorry. I guess I over did it a little…?"

_No shit, Sherlock!_ Dean lifted a paw and smacked his brother on the arm then let it fall back limply to the floor, too exhausted to do anything else.

"Don't move, okay? I'll get you some food and water."

Dean snorted finding it ironic how the tables had turned from the last time they'd done this. If he didn't know better and the fear in his brother's eyes confirm it, he would have suspected Sam of doing it on purpose.

"Here." His brother joined him on the floor again, removing the tin foil over a wrapped plate. Three juicy steaks were nestled inside, the smell of them instantly making Dean's mouth water. A bowl filled with liquid got placed right beside them. He didn't hesitate and wolfed everything down.

His brother sat with him the whole time, eating a large sandwich. Dean felt his gaze on him throughout. Guess he'd given his brother quite a scare. Hah! As if it was his fault. He reached over and smacked Sam on the leg.

"I really am sorry, Dean. It's not like I'm an expert or anything. I guess there's such a thing as too much help?"

Dean totally ignored him not deigning to give the lame line an answer. Instead he found himself yawning wide, suddenly terribly sleepy. He tried to get to his feet, but his body wouldn't cooperate. After wobbling for a moment on unsteady legs, he was forced to sit back down.

"You want up on the bed?"

Not waiting for an answer, Sam reached forward and took hold of him. Strain showing on his face, he lifted Dean up off the floor and set him on the mattress. He was breathing heavy by the time he got him there. Guess the mess still took a bite out of his brother despite his call for help. Impulsively, Dean leaned forward and licked his brother lightly on the cheek.

Sam grimaced. "Thanks…I think. Get some rest, okay? I'll wake you up as soon as it gets dark."

Dean reached out and snagged Sam's shirt in his claw and pulled it back toward him.

"Dean, no. I'm okay. Honest."

He pulled more insistently.

With a huff of exasperation and an eye roll, his brother caved in and laid out on the bed next to him. "Fine, maybe I'll nap for a little while. Happy?"

Dean wrapped his two forelegs around his brother as if he were a tall teddy bear and licked at his hair. Sam tried to move away, but Dean flexed his claws into his t-shirt in warning. Sam stopped.

"Aw come on, dude. This is getting old, you know? Give me a break." He tried to move away again.

Dean didn't relent, instead lightly nipping his brother's ear.

"Ow! _Bastard_. All right already!" He felt Sam tense beside him then relax as a long sigh followed. "You so _suck_. Friggin' spoiled older brother…" He didn't try to leave anymore.

Dean was perfectly okay with that. He was a cat, so this wasn't a hug. Nothing emotional about this at all -- just a feline and his feeder taking a nice little nap together like millions of other cats and their slaves. He placed his warm nose against his brother's hair covered neck and went to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Sam woke to a rattling snore right in his ear. Grimacing, he turned his head to save his hearing, wondering why he had to be one of the few people to learn jaguars could snore. Dean's feline limbs were still wrapped around him but totally lax. With infinite patience, Sam inched out of them, praying Dean wouldn't wake. He'd personally had had more than enough cat napping for the day, but wouldn't begrudge Dean the rest.

Once out of bed, he turned around and studied his sleeping brother. From his wide red tongue to the tip of his tail, the jaguar form seemed as he remembered it. He hoped it was as it was supposed to be.

Never in a thousand years had he thought he would be putting his brother in danger by trying to alleviate his own power problem. With all the memories just hidden out of sight, he'd been going on instinct, vague feelings, and hope. And he'd succeeded too well. Power hadn't been a problem. Yet he'd done too good a job and things went too far. It had been really close. He wasn't sure if Dean understood how close, but Sam did. He'd almost killed his brother -- not a hellhound, not a demon, not any of the things they usually hunted. And all just so he wouldn't feel as drained from the changing process. The horrid irony of it tasted like bile.

Sam glanced at the table of offerings and wasn't sure he could work up the guts to try to do it again. He would just have to deal with the power drain…as he should have in the first place. Hopefully his brother wouldn't give him too much of a hard time about it.

With it not being quite late enough yet and Dean deep in dreamland, Sam decided to use the time to their benefit. Grabbing his laptop, he settled into a one of the room's rickety chairs and got to work.

He surfed over to the New York City Department of Buildings to use their BIS system. This gave him generic information on Bela's building, the block and lot numbers, complaints, building permits (so he could tell if she had ever made additions to the structure before or since their first meeting at Black Rock), and more. Still, for the physical building layout, he would have to go the Building Office and look them up by hand. Glancing at his watch, he knew it was too late. The office had closed at 4:30. But at least he knew from the records here that she'd recently had some alarm work done and by what company. The different types of permits they'd had to get and others contractors listed to have done work around the same time told him a lot about what was done and helped narrow down what she might have chosen to install. Looked like she'd decided to upgrade her system after Dean's last unexpected visit. Not that it would do her any good.

A tight smile on his face, he glanced toward the bed only to find his brother wasn't there anymore. A whack on his leg from a thick tail made him look to the left and down, where he found Dean sitting, staring up at him with golden eyes.

"You're up. You all right?"

A big yawn and flexing of claws on the carpet were his answer.

Sam glanced at his watch. "We shouldn't go quite yet. Let me go get us some dinner and a couple of things we'll need then we can go. Found some info you'll want to know about too. Seems you made something of an impression on Bela last time you were in Queens."

A curious expression met his pronouncement, but he didn't elucidate. Sam hoped the promise of food and the prying enticement would keep his brother from getting into too much trouble while he was gone.

Less than forty minutes later, he was back and they ate and planned, Sam doing all of the talking and Dean putting his two cents in with claw and tail. He watched his brother pace back and forth afterwards as they waited just a little more before leaving for their objective. Then it was time.

Checking that the way was clear to the car and opening the side door, Sam went back for his brother. Slinking through in a rapid blur, Dean was out and in the car faster than Sam could close the door and join him.

With Dean hiding on the floorboard, Sam drove them down Queens Boulevard then took Kew Gardens to within a block of Bela's place. Parking the car behind a wall of pruned bushes, Sam sent a quick prayer for luck then opened the door of the Impala so he and his brother could get out.

Dean instanlty disappeared into the darkness. Sam put on a blue cap to help hide his face, straightened the coveralls with the name of one of the electrician companies that had last worked at the building, then grabbed a clipboard and tool belt from the back seat. Head lowered, he started down the sidewalk toward the building.

Sam hunched down a little as he came close, knowing his height worked against him when trying to keep from getting recognized. Acting as if he had every right to be there, he cut across the back lawn to the junction box on the wall. Picking the lock open, he bypassed a couple of connections leading to a certain condo. Once he was finished, he went up the walk and hurried up the open stairwell two steps at a time. The stairs branched off to each of the condo entrances on the second floor and he stopped there, acting as if he were checking the address on the clipboard. Out of the corner of his eye, he looked for and spotted the lens of a partially hidden video camera. Making sure to keep his face averted from it, he went up the steps to the door.

He awkwardly picked the door lock while standing up, his operation outside making sure no signal would be sent to the security firm of the break in he was about to commit. He slipped inside and relocked the door, hit the reset on the alarm system, then sidled into the doorway on his right to get out of the long hallway and listened.

It was quiet. Way too quiet.

Sam set the clipboard aside and slipped out his PT99 and clicked the safety off.

There was a loud hiss as he slinked back into the hallway and plastered himself close to the right wall, and he saw what looked like a Siamese cat run screeching past the living room and up the stairs on the other side.

"Oh my god!"

A loud crash as of a glass being broken echoed from the direction of the kitchen.

Sam hurried the few short feet left of the hallway and turned into the living room then in the direction of the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a stone antique Ouija board, masks, vases, and other antiquities, all of which shouted for his attention but he was forced to ignore. He kept his gaze front and center, the kitchen being the scene of this little planned drama. What he saw there gave even him pause and he was expecting it.

The window over the kitchen sink was broken, glass, a torn miniblind, and what might at one point been a potted plant filling the sink. Bela was splayed up against her refrigerator, eyes wide, her hands up, doing her distinct best not to move a muscle. A low growl trembled in the air as Dean's jaguar form stood before her, his body coiled and poised, promising death and carnage.

"Sam!"

He was surprised at the utter look of relief on Bela's face as she spotted him and the gun in his hand, but then again she was in a rather desperate situation. It could have been a rapist and she would still have been thrilled -- someone else to throw at the feline to chew on so she could buy a few moments in which to escape. Calling his name was but a way to bring the jaguar's attention to him.

She took a step sideways as if following through on those very thoughts, until Dean's warning growl grew louder and she splayed herself once more dead center against the fridge.

"Wha – what are you waiting for? Kill it!" Her British accent was even more pronounced than normal, with a slight quiver vibrating underneath.

This wasn't a nice trick, and Sam knew it, but he was finding it really hard to feel bad about it. Bela Talbot had had more than her share of fun at their expense before.

"I don't think he likes you. And to be honest, I can't blame him. I don't like you much either."

Bela's face lost all color. "_That's_ with you?"

Dean made a halfhearted swipe at her leg causing Bela to jump and squeal in a high voice.

"He's a he, not a that. I don't think you'll be winning any points with him. Not with that attitude."

She stared down at Dean, as if trying to rationalize that the jaguar might actually be able to understand her. "Nice kitty?"

Dean opened his mouth wide and showed her his numerous teeth.

Sam felt a grin trying to tug at the edge of his mouth, but clamped down on his amusement, deciding it would be best to get down to business. "You stole a _nawal_ recently. Where is it?"

Bela's expression went blank. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't believe her. Do you?" Sam threw the question at Dean.

His brother took a menacing step forward.

Bela tried to drive herself further against the fridge to get away from him.

"Looks like neither of us believes you. Care to try again?"

She stared at him, then at the jaguar, and back again. Then she was gazing behind them as if looking for someone. "Where's your brother? Let you off his short leash did he?"

Dean's growl rose up a notch. Sam wondered how it was her mouth had yet to get her killed and then thought it might still do it today if she weren't careful. "That's none of your concern. Just tell us what we want to know."

"I don't have it."

Dean gave a low cough which still reverberated the windows. Bela grimaced. No doubt his brother hadn't expected a different answer from her either.

"Who does?"

She looked down at Dean again. "I can't tell you that."

Dean's tail swished back and forth smacking with force against the cabinet doors beneath the kitchen sink.

"I suggest you reconsider."

Her face lost all expression. "You don't know what you're asking."

The beat of Dean's smacking tail picked up a notch.

"My friend is really not the most patient person in the world." Sam gave her a warm smile. "And he hasn't had his dinner yet. If you want to stay in one piece, I suggest you start talking now."

Again Bela looked from him to the jaguar and back again.

"Amos Stanfield." Her face twisted with distaste. "The buyer's name is Amos Stanfield."

Sam was quite surprised to see she might actually have standards. He supposed as a thief you'd have to have some loyalty to your clients otherwise you'd end up with none. "Where can we find him?"

"You don't want to mess with him. He's a very _dangerous_ man."

Sam's brow rose. "You let us worry about that. Now just answer the question."

She glared at him, a stubborn look settling on her face. That was until Dean rose up suddenly on his hind legs, put paws on either side of Bela's face and snapped his jaws shut an inch away from her face.

Sam jumped, startled by his brother's actions, a shot of fear induced adrenaline flashing through him.

Bela's legs shook then would no longer hold her as she slumped down to the floor in a half faint, her face beyond pale.

Dean pushed back and away and gave her some space.

"Dude!" Sam smacked his brother on the side as he came close, not only for pushing things too far, but for the scare it gave him.

A short cough that could be nothing other than amusement echoed in the place.

Despite himself, Sam was feeling a little sorry for the thief. "Please, just tell us what we want to know and get this over with. We'll leave you in peace if you do. If you don't…" He left the rest unsaid, letting her fill in the blanks with her imagination. Personally, he had no idea what they would do if she didn't cooperate.

"He, he…" Her voice shook so hard, she was forced to stop and try again. She sent a hate filled glare in Dean's direction even as her cheeks flashed red with embarrassment. Guess even amoral thieves had pride. "He's here. In New York. Has an estate in the suburbs."

"Where?"

He saw her visibly try to pull herself together. He had to admit he'd never seen her this out of whack before. But then again, while she might be used to being confronted by those with lots of animosity toward her, none of them had ever been a full grown jaguar. No one would be prepared for that face off.

"Chappaqua. About an hour north of the city. He has a cottage there." She rattled off an address. "I can't tell you any more."

Sam nodded, filing the information away. Now to get out of here in one piece. "Fine." He sent a telling glance in Dean's direction. He brought his gun up and pointed it at her. "Bela, I'm going to back out of the kitchen and you're going to follow. My friend is going to be standing very close to you, watching your every move."

Her brow rose as she stared at him with visible mistrust. "What are you going to do to me? I told you what you wanted."

Sam didn't respond and just backed up as he said he would. A reverberating growl from Dean got her moving.

She kept close to the left, skirting toward the kitchen marbletop counter and a small wine refrigerator built beneath it and on top sat several screens showing video camera feeds. Her hand swept over the small fridge's door and Dean suddenly snapped at her hand making her jump and jerk it away.

Sam frowned, wondering what that had been about, but didn't say anything. Just from what little he knew about Bela, he wouldn't have been surprised to find out she had a gun stashed in there. Better safe than sorry.

Moving down the hallway toward the door, Sam stopped next to the alarm and door jamb, and signaled for her to go on into the side room.

Dean slipped past her first, taking a position inside. He kept her from getting too close to the small antique cluttered desk.

"In the closet if you please."

Bela stood her ground. "You must be joking. I'm not going in there."

Dean pawed the closet door knob until it popped open then cut in front of her with a loud cough leaving her little choice.

"I won't forget this."

Sam gave her a light shove to get her in the rest of the way. "Never imagined you would."

Dean pushed the door closed. Sam grabbed the small chair behind the desk and propped it slightly askew against the doorknob to trap her inside. He then quickly picked up his previously discarded clipboard and led the way out, doubting the closet would hold Bela for more than a minute or two. He was sure she was pissed and he didn't want to be around once she got out.

Watching to make sure his brother's dark blur headed in the direction of the hidden car, he hurried back to the junction box and undid his bypass work. The less of a trail they left the better.

He didn't dare breathe any easier until the building was blocked out of sight in the rearview mirror.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Man, that had been a total blast! The look on Bela's _face_. Dean wished he'd had a camera. Knowing that jaguars were good at climbing trees, he'd figured the side of Bela's sculptured building wouldn't be an issue and it hadn't. Yeah, breaking the kitchen window had been a little more problematic than he'd hoped (thank goodness for the potted plants on her patio), but the utter shocked look on her face had been so majorly worth it!

"Dean, we probably shouldn't hang around town. No telling what she might decide to do once she gets out of there."

He grunted, having to agree. As they'd come to know intimately, Bela was one giant sore loser. He wouldn't be surprised if she decided to call the cops on them out of spite. Becoming scarce was probably a good idea.

"I'll go back to the motel and get our stuff real quick. Just stay in the car and out of sight." Sam sent him a hard stare as if Dean needed the extra hint. "I won't check us out, in case she starts looking for us. No reason to make it any easier on her. I can do it over the phone later."

Dean sent his brother an amused glance. Maybe Sam missed his yakking after all, despite frequent comments to the contrary. His brother wasn't normally this talkative. It was like he was trying to make up for Dean's lack of words. He would use this against him later.

Stuck again in a parking spot with no light, Dean watched Sammy hurry across the lot to their room. He kept his senses primed and scanning the area, enjoying the heightened senses and not wanting to underestimate Bela any more than his brother did.

Sam was back in about ten minutes, dragged down by their duffles and a couple of extra bags. He dumped the lot in the back seat, then got the Impala going again and all of them back on the road.

Dean relaxed in the bench seat, enjoying the familiar thrum of the engine as it made itself felt through the interior of the car. He might not be able to purr as a jaguar, but Baby sure could do it for him. No greater feeling than being on an open road with your brother, a roaring engine announcing your presence to the world. His eyes slid closed to half mast, contentment flowing through him.

His whiskers twitched when Sam unexpectedly reached down and petted his flank. Sending a cautious glance in his brother's direction, he was pretty sure Sammy wasn't even aware he was doing it. It was that whole feline magnetism thing. Sweet. He sure hoped he'd get a chance to milk it with the ladies. For now though, he'd just sit back and enjoy the ride.

Forty minutes later, Sam pulled the Impala into a gas station, again parking as far away from the lights as possible.

Dean sent him a questioning glance, but Sam only reached into the backseat to grab his laptop. He opened it up and started typing. A hard thump of his tail on the seat made Sam jump, but finally got his brother's attention.

"Oh… Just trying to figure out where we can hole up tonight." He turned the laptop in Dean's direction so he could see his Yahoo search.

Dean slapped the laptop closed.

"Hey! What's the big idea?" Sam retrieved his computer like he afraid he would try to eat it. As if.

Dean slapped the dash with his paw pointing them back toward the road.

"Dude, you can't be serious! We can't just go over there. We don't know the layout, or how many guards the place has, _nothing_. You heard Bela, this guy is not someone to mess with. We don't want to go in there unprepared."

A low growl filled the interior of the car. Like that woman wouldn't lie through her teeth every other second. Worse, the longer they took on this the more time for her to decide to backstab them in some way. Didn't Sammy see that? They'd be safer in the long run just to go there. They had feline advantage!

"Growl at me all you want, but we're not going in there blind." His brother's face was set. "It'll just take an hour or two to get some intel, if we're lucky. We need to see what's what before we go charging in there."

Dean didn't like this, oh he so much didn't like this. He wished this was like in the dream so he could argue with his brother here and now. He glanced at the door handle wondering how hard it would be to paw it open.

"Yeah, Dean, go ahead, open the door and leave. That's a _great_ plan." His sarcasm couldn't have been thicker. "Good luck getting there sometime before morning. How long can jaguars run anyway? And do you even know the address?"

He felt his claws flex. He was so very tempted to give Sammy a good swat. That his brother was right had nothing to do with it.

"You got something to say, Dean?" Sam stared him down as if able to read his thoughts.

Fine. Whatever. He wanted this to take longer? No skin off his nose. Sammy was the one in a hurry in the first place anyway. He'd just better not hear any complaining about this later though.

With that he flumped on the seat and stared out the window.

Nothing happened for several long minutes then the soft tapping of keys filled the intervening silence. Dean tried his best not to care.

"Well, we got a couple of possible choices. There's the Crabtree's Kittle House, old converted home, but it's only got twelve rooms so we might stick out. There's another Comfort Inn though."

Dean sent a sharp glance his brother's way not able to believe his ears.

"It's not pink, okay? This one is one of the newer buildings. Look." Sam turned the laptop around to show him photos of the place, but kept the computer well out of his reach. "It's not too close, so we should be able to do okay there."

Dean snorted but added no other commentary.

Sam seemed to take it as assent and after shutting the laptop down they got underway again.

As promised, the Comfort Inn wasn't pink, or even salmon. Looked more like a true mini hotel than a motel. Sam had yet to figure out that the types of places Dean preferred you normally couldn't find on the net. You either knew about them before hand or tripped over them as you traveled along. Those were the best places. Unusual, unique, not the same old. Besides, chains like these would never consider having Magic Fingers. Bet they would feel even more glorious as a cat. Though putting in the quarters could be a problem. Wonder if he could somehow talk Sammy into it?

His brother parked them out in the boonies again. "Be right back. Don't go anywhere." He got out of the car and headed toward the tall carport entrance.

And he accused _him_ of having a mother complex? What the hell did he think he was doing? Snotty brat! Dean smacked his tail against the seat keeping count as to how long it took his brother to get back. If he didn't think Baby would hate him for it, he would have taken out some of his aggression on the bench seat with his claws.

Sam came back with a slightly troubled look on his face. "We're set. I'm going to let you in through the side door again, okay? And we'll have to take the stairs. There's only one elevator and they stuck us on the third floor."

Dean slinked out of the car as Sam got their stuff from the back. He didn't give his brother a hard time though he could have, figuring Sam's worry that they'd be caught going up was payback enough for dragging them there. He stuck to the shadows and waited near the door until Sam came and let him in.

He took a deep breath as they entered the stairwell and could tell there was no one there. He hurried up the steps leaving Sam to catch up. Less than a minute later they were safely hidden away in their room.

Dean had to admit it was a far cry from the one in New Hampshire. Rugs weren't sticky for one thing. A little more elbow room than the last one too. And it had a couch! He leapt on over to it and splayed himself across it.

Sam opened the hutch housing the TV then brought the remote control over to him. "I'll go find some food and bring stuff back. I'll get extra for the change."

There was something funny about the way he said it, but Dean couldn't quite put his finger on it. It was a total waste of time anyway. They should be going to the house _now_. Sam might be in for a big surprise if he didn't play his cards right.

There was nothing much on TV, so he channel surfed not really paying much attention to what he was seeing. He kept wondering what this Stanfield wanted with the heart of a village. Did he even know what it was and that it had true power? And what exactly would corrupt something like that and what might the fallout be?

The hidden memories supplied by Ix Chel didn't provide any answers. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

Sam eventually returned. He set the food bags on the counter with the microwave and sent a veiled glance in Dean's direction. "Why don't you go ahead and change?"

Dean turned off the TV but didn't stir from the couch. Surely he wasn't serious? And what about his offerings to entice the spirits to help him with the power drain? None of that stuff was set up yet.

"Dean, come on. I'm really tired of talking to myself, okay? If we get this over with now, we'll have plenty of time to rest up and can hit the ground running tomorrow."

He _was_ serious! Didn't he have any idea of the time they'd be wasting? Dean jumped off of the couch and headed toward their bags. He swatted at the one with the bowls then glanced over at Sam.

"Didn't figure we needed them. I brought plenty of food."

Dean swatted at the bag again, the wooden bowls inside it rattling against one another.

Sam glanced away, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "Look, it's just not necessary, okay? I can handle the drain. Just will the change already and let's get it over with."

Dean sat on his haunches and hit the bag harder this time. He knew what the drain of power would do to his brother and they didn't have time for it.

Sam glanced at him guiltily totally avoiding his gaze. "I, I don't want to do that again. We don't need to."

Dean was starting to get annoyed. He let it show with a low growl which soon thrummed in the room. He smacked the bag again.

Sam's brow furrowed, his eyes troubled, still looking anywhere but him. He fidgeted in place as if arguing with himself. What the heck was going on with him?

"Dean, I can't. I…I almost killed you the last time. The risk isn't worth it."

What crap! Did he have no faith in himself at all? Sheesh, Sammy.

Dean smacked the bag again.

Sam's face closed up. "I said _no_, Dean. Now will the change."

With a snort, Dean turned away and padded over to the couch splaying himself back over the cushions again.

"Dean…"

Two could play at this game.

"Dean!"

He hit the remote with his paw and turned up the volume.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Sam stared dumbfounded at his brother as the latter totally ignored him staring only at the TV.

Unbelievable! Of all the stubborn, stupid, unhelpful…

He tried hard to let go of his ire in one long, deep sigh.

He really shouldn't have expected anything else. Far be it for his _older_ brother to see reason. Wasn't it bad enough Dean had thrown away his life by making a deal in exchange for Sam's but now he wanted him to take the risk of botching the transformation and killing him early too?

Yes, it would delay getting the nawal back. Yes, it would tax Sam though he had a way around it. But did his life really just mean so very little to him? Was their time left together just so much rubbish to throw away just to try and hurry things along?

He turned away from his brother not able to look at him anymore regardless of his form. The impulse to stomp over there and throttle him was too strong. Instead, Sam grabbed his laptop and the printer attachment out of his duffle.

For a moment he stared longingly at the room's door, wanting nothing more than to rush off, find a lone private corner in the lobby and work away, no jack-assed brother in sight. But he didn't trust him. Leaving Dean alone right now would give his brother too much of a temptation to go off and take care of things on his own. That wasn't going to happen. So Sam tried his best to just shut him out of his mind and sat back on the farthest bed and started in on his research.

Google maps got him an overview of the area and switching it to satellite view let him look at what was actually there -- huge house with a pool out back. There was a second building less than fifty feet from the house with a large tennis court behind it. The landscape was heavily wooded except right around the buildings. If this man was as dangerous and also possibly into illegalities as Bela had implied, he could well assume the place would be full of lights, if not video, and armed guards. He couldn't tell from the feed, but he had a feeling the place would have a bordering wall as well -- possibly laden with more video or even motion sensors. You didn't buy the types of antiquities Bela sold and not make sure to make it as hard as possible in case someone or something wanted whatever it was back.

Depending on what Stanfield stole the nawal for it might be hidden on the grounds rather than the living areas, which might make things slightly easier. No matter how he looked at it though, this wasn't going to be a simple, quick retrieval. More time lost that they could ill afford.

Sam felt the muscle at his jaw tighten, not happy at the thought. Mentioning it to Dean in his current mood would avail him nothing either.

He printed out the satellite view, then a map showing the surrounding streets as well as one showing the way from the hotel to the area. Then he did Google and Yahoo searches on Stanfield himself. Aside from listings putting him on the board of several innocuous seeming corporations, there appeared to be little out there on the man. That in itself was rather odd. The internet had something somewhere on everyone. The rich and powerful more than most. Bela's warning was gaining more credence by the moment.

Searching other venues did get him some info on Stanfield's 'cottage'. 6,026 square feet, 5 bedrooms, 4.5 baths, a total of thirteen rooms set on 4.29 acres -- a whopping 9.5 million dollar property. And this was only one of his homes away from home. If they had to go inside the house he'd have to remember to keep Dean away from the fixtures and the appliances. Double for the liquor cabinet. And he was absolutely not letting him near the bathing facilities. After that one house they'd squatted at with the steam shower, his brother had been spoiled for life.

Sam let his gaze slid unobtrusively in Dean's direction. His brother was still splayed out on the couch in full feline splendor, attention glued to the TV on some show in the middle of a mindless car chase. His tail swished lazily back and forth every twenty seconds or so. Deceptive calm in a deadly package. It was a little scary how much of his brother the jaguar form seemed to emulate.

Shaking his head, Sam got back to work.

A few hours later, he didn't have much more to show for his trouble.

He glanced at his brother again and noticed the TV was off, his brother's furry head nestled over crossed paws. Looking at his watch he realized it was past two a.m. Dean might not be willing to change back to human form just to spite him, but at least it didn't look like he was going anywhere tonight.

Sam gathered his printouts and shut down the laptop. He would discuss what he'd found with Dean in the morning and they could try to hash out some sort of plan -- at least something better than just running in there unprepared in the middle of the night.

With a long last look at his brother, he got ready for bed and turned in for the night.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Dean slowly swiveled an ear back in the direction of the beds. Sam had finally stopped working and turned in. Now it was only a matter of giving his brother long enough to fall deeply asleep.

He heard Sam's breathing deepen as consciousness left him. He gave it another ten minutes to make sure. Though they were both used to each other's movements and subconsciously knew who was what, Dean wasn't in exactly his usual form.

Like falling silk, he slinked off the couch, his every sense primed. Sam didn't stir. On padded feet, he approached the table with the fruit of his brother's labors. Dean climbed up onto the chair next to it. True to form, Sam had printed out maps and other info. With infinite patience, Dean quietly spread them out over the table. He memorized the address of where he wanted to go and especially how to get there. It would take him a while without a car, but it was a whole lot closer than when he'd argued with Sam in the Impala.

If things worked out, he'd come and go without his brother being the wiser, and give him a big surprise in the morning to boot. Just anticipating the freaked look on Sammy's face warmed him up inside.

Dean left the chair and sauntered over to the room's door. He lifted a paw and stared at it then the doorknob, this being the trickiest part of his plan. He knew Ix Chel's son had been able to open doors as he'd taken Dean out a couple of times without human help. Unlike a real jaguar he knew how the mechanism worked and what it took to open it. A latched handled knob would have been easier than a round knob, but that was neither here nor there – all that mattered was getting out.

Splaying his paw as open as possible, he wrapped it around the knob and turned it. Extending his claws, he pulled after it clicked, and slid the door open. Using his other paw to keep it that way, he turned one ear to listen out in the hallway, his nose sniffing at the air, even as he glanced back toward his brother's bed. Sam still hadn't stirred. Dean slinked out the open door and made sure to close it silently behind him. He'd show Sam the power of jaguars. His brother would never doubt him again.

The hotel's late solitude followed Dean as he padded quietly down the hallway to the stairs. When he opened the door, the strong odor of liquor assaulted his nose. One flight down a man in a disheveled three-piece business suit sat in a corner singing to himself totally off key. The song was interrupted every few seconds as a bottle was brought up to the cracked lips for another swig of Jack.

Dean hesitated, not having counted on this. He could go back and use the elevator, but if it decided to be an unlucky night, that was the last place he'd want to get himself into. Besides, it would dump him out at the lobby and the manned desk. And no way was he aborting his outing. Not like he could get back into the room anyway. And waking Sam up so he could get a lecture was not something he was going to risk.

Putting his head up and setting a casual pace, Dean went down the stairs as if he had every right to be there. He didn't even glance at the drunk as he passed him, not even at the audible gasp and chocking sounds. He did wrinkle his nose as the scent of urine which followed him down though. Ugh. Maybe it would teach the idiot to imbibe in the privacy of his own room next time instead of using public byways.

A slap of a paw opened the side exit door on the ground floor and Dean was outside. The cool night air flowed over him and he breathed deep, the sight of open sky and open ground sending an unexpected thrill through him. No more being cooped inside a car or a room. Now he would be able to experience his new form to its fullest. His claws dug into the grass in anticipation.

Quickly getting his bearings, Dean took off to head toward his destination. Saw Mill River Road took him to Saw Mill River Parkway. He cut across the Graham Hills County Park, reveling in the feel of the earth and clumps of trees, almost able to pretend he was crossing a jungle. He had to slow down once he hit Bedford road as he cut through Pleasantville, lurking from shadow to shadow as he crossed the human made forest.

The roads changed to single lane blacktops as he neared his goal. A plethora of trees helped keep him hidden as he reached the boundary of the estate. An iron rod gate attached to a six foot brick wall bared entry to the property, but that didn't worry Dean at all. What did bring concern were the obvious cameras and light units, which were probably motion sensitive. With squirrels, chipmunks, birds and other natural wildlife the sensitivity couldn't be set too high, but his size would prove a problem regardless.

Sniffing the air, he knew there were men patrolling close to the house. Also the scent of burning wood was heavy, the dark streaks of smoke from a chimney trying to cloud the moon.

Staying a good ten feet from the wall, Dean prowled the circumference of the place looking for a likely location to go over. They'd been pretty thorough on setting up the lights and cameras, but every system had a weak spot. The place would have been staged for human intrusion anyway and not for someone like him.

Half way around the four plus acres he found what he was looking for. A tall oak with the lower branches cut away would give him the height he needed. Unlike most people, he came with his own built in set of tree climbing equipment. Dean extended his claws utterly thrilled at the chance to use them.

With a leap, he clamped onto the thick bark, his shivs digging in deep. He let instinct take over and climbed the tall tree, the scent of sap and green wrapping around him. Resting as he hung a good twelve feet off the ground, he let his senses take in what they could of the other side of the wall before getting ready. Coiling his muscles, he aimed for the wall's other side then sprang into the air.

He crossed the intervening space in a graceful arc then landed as easy as you pleased on the other side. Evil Knievel eat your heart out!

Lights flickered on on the wall but Dean was already a blur dashing into deeper shadows. Another tree became his perch and hiding place as a couple of men crossed the area to check out what had triggered the lights. Within minutes the lights flickered off and the armed men were back off to their usual routine. Dean couldn't help the grin widening on his feline face.

Once all was quiet, he slithered back down to the ground.

Now to find the nawal and get this over with.

Taking a deep lungful of air, Dean searched for traces of the distinctive scent he'd picked up for the Heart back at the Evans place. His jaguar brain deftly tore apart the smells of trees, grass, animals, men eventually locking onto the one he wanted. He'd not been able to make much of it back at the greenhouse aside from the fact it was unique. To his jaguar senses though it spoke of more than that – it was the scent of life, creation, the hopes and dreams of the people the village had protected and much more. Yet there was something wrong with it too. Just the tiniest hint of putrid smell, similar to the one that had so coated the jade mask over a year ago. The Heart was not meant to be in such a place as this.

He was tense, yet more than the scenario deserved. His nose itched. There was something else here. Something that wasn't right. He couldn't quite narrow down what it was. He suddenly sneezed. Dean froze, listening for some kind of reaction from the darkness. Nothing. Still, there was something in the air, something off. The sooner he found the nawal and got out of here the better.

Following its scent, Dean kept to the darkness as he crossed the huge estate and made his way toward his goal. As he came close to a small iron rod hut nestled amongst several trees, he picked up a new scent – that of fresh meat. Curious, he took a slight detour. Covered over with branches, as if somehow that could disguise the tang of newly forged metal, was a rectangular cage. On its far end was a platter of fresh steaks. From the look of them, several smaller critters had already taken a few nibbles for themselves.

Dean couldn't help a quiet snort, part disgust part disbelief. Bela had told on them, the skank. But she'd obviously had no clue as to who the jaguar who made her pee her panties was or they would never have tried such a moronic trick. Still, it meant they were keeping an eye out for them. With a second snort of derision, he turned his back on the hidden cage and got back to business.

The iron rod hut was about three feet tall, loosely resembling a Mayan dwelling. The opening was shut with a small gate that was locked at the top – something the Maya would never do. Every door was a mouth and they were meant to be open. Mayan symbols covered the bars all over. Dean lifted a paw and stared at his claws wondering if he could possibly use them as lock picks. He thought he might as well give it a go, when he detected movement inside the hut itself.

Tensing, he shifted to take a look.

A small dark skinned boy sat inside with silent tears coursing down his face. He looked up with wide deep eyes as he sensed Dean's presence. He suddenly pointed past him and opened his mouth in warning though no sound came out.

Dean felt a sudden sharp prick on his hind leg.

Turning to see what hit him, he spotted a large feathered dart protruding from his flesh. Aw crap.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Sam rolled onto his side, his eyes flickering open. Only half conscious, he got up out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom and took care of nature's call. Halfway back, he stopped and frowned. Something wasn't right.

His sleep mired mind spun in circles as he stood there trying to pinpoint exactly what was off.

The room was quiet -- too quiet.

Quiet was never good.

Sam became very much awake, his whole body growing taut.

With what little light made it through the drawn curtains, he scanned the room. As his gaze traveled over the dark couch, he sucked in a quick breath of air as he realized what was wrong. His brother was missing.

Not wanting to jump to conclusions, he moved to the nightstand and turned on a lamp. He checked the second bed but it was empty. "Dean, you better not be hiding on me, cause this isn't funny!"

He listened intently for any telltale breathing, coughing, snorting -- there was nothing. Damn it!

Sam turned on his heel and stared at the room's closed door. He waited for several seconds expecting shocked screams or curses, but there was nothing. His brother had gone and seemingly not raised an alarm leaving Sam to spin in the dark on his own. Bastard!

Not that he didn't know where his brother had gone off to. Why couldn't Dean have been just a little more patient? His brother would be the death of him…or at least be the cause of a nice large brain aneurism.

Moving as fast as he was able, Sam yanked some clothes on and grabbed the printouts from the table as well as the Impala's keys. There was no telling how long Dean had been gone. But maybe, just maybe he could catch up with him before something went terribly, terribly wrong. That weird sense he sometimes got when things were about to go really bad was digging into the middle of his shoulders with a vengeance.

He made it to the lobby with no signs of his brother. The clerk seemed sleepy but otherwise fine, letting him know Dean had somehow made it outside without being seen. No cops, no vans from animal control outside. At least for once, his brother had been discreet. Thank goodness for small favors.

As the Impala rumbled to life, Sam popped open the glove compartment and grabbed one of Dean's Metallica tapes and slapped it into the player. His brother always professed their music at times helped keep him calm, and right now Sam needed all the calm he could get.

The sky was brightening in dribs and drabs, the clouds turning into deep shades of pink and orange. Dew stood out on most of the grass and trees, reflecting the growing light in miniature rainbows. Sam would have very much enjoyed the scenery if not for the growing sense of deep impending doom.

Knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel too tight, Sam leaned forward as he came up on King street in Chappaqua. He rubbed subconsciously at his chest as a loud sound from above forced him to roll down the window so he could look up. A large helicopter was flying low, a long chain and some kind of barred box hanging from beneath. Something black was pressed up against the side he could see.

The ache in his chest burned, even as he swerved to pull the Impala over to the side of the road and jumped out of the car.

The helicopter and cage passed right over him. A sad, frightened mewling could be heard beneath the sound of the rotors.

"_Dean!_"

A black furred face and wide yellow eyes turned in his direction, a loud cough sounding very much like his own named yelled back.

Sam dove back into the car and turned it around, determined to keep the helicopter in sight. The latter picked up speed and rose higher into the air, pulling his brother further away. He stomped on the gas, skidding on the tight turns and eliciting several honks and curses, but no matter how hard he tried the flying vehicle quickly outdistanced him until eventually it became just a lone dot in the distance and then totally disappeared from sight.

--

Sam paced back and forth in the hotel room, his fists coiled and his mind racing. He'd hightailed it back to the Comfort Inn and his room as fast as he'd been able and used the computer to try and locate the helicopter through its identification letters. Though he'd found info on the vehicle itself, he'd been unable to unearth anything about its flight plan that day. He could find where it had gone the day before and where it would be going the next day, but all records indicated it had never gone anywhere today. But it had. He'd seen it.

The warning that Stanfield wasn't someone to mess with rang again through his mind, bringing up bile.

Dean had been put in a cage. Put in a cage and carried off by a convenient helicopter capable of carrying that weight, all records of its flight off the grid. This stank of preparation. It screamed of betrayal. It reeked of Bela.

She'd known where they were going and what they were after. A phone call would have taken but a moment. And with the delays Sam had imposed on his brother, Stanfield had had plenty of time to prepare.

His face twisted in bitterness, his teeth grinding on one another, knowing that if not for his overt caution and misplaced belief that he'd clamped down on his brother's impatience this might have been avoided altogether. Now Dean was gone. His life running out with every hour as the time for the demon contract grew ever nearer, each of these moments stolen from the two of them, time they would not be together and could never reclaim before Dean was lost to him forever. And it was his _fault_.

His coiled fist slammed hard into his leg sending throbbing pain up his thigh.

He had no time for this! He needed to get Dean back not wallow in self pity. Getting him back was the only thing that mattered right now. _The only thing_.

Bela had betrayed them into this, so she should be the one forced to help get Dean back. Sam had no delusions that he would find her back at her condo again. After stabbing them in the back he was sure she'd hightailed it out of there knowing they'd eventually put two and two together and that there was always the possibility one of them might make it out and want payback. This was but the latest in a long list of sins and it was about time she was made to account for some of them.

And Sam planned to be doing just that, right after he cooked up a little something to tempt her his way.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

In a long line of fuckups over the years, Dean knew he'd gained new heights with this one.

He groaned. New heights…that was so totally not the right thing to say.

Claws already extended to their fullest, Dean clung to the boards of the bottom of the cage as it swayed precariously back and forth in the strong bay wind smelling of fish and garbage.

Flying while dangling from the bottom of a helicopter had been bad, _very bad_. Who knew jaguars could hurl? But this hanging from a giant hoist as they decided where to put him was not so hot either. Jaguar throats weren't so good for humming, but Metallica had been ringing inside his head now for hours just as a matter of survival. People were meant to be on the ground, on their own two feet, not being dragged through the air by helicopters and machinery.

He dared a glimpse past the bars of the cage. Dark water glimmered with the early morning sun only to be blocked out by decking as the hoist swung him over and around. His already unhappy stomach did a flipflop at the sight and he quickly scrunched his eyes shut again.

Sammy was going to flail him alive. That was if he ever saw his brother again. At least he had the slight comfort of knowing that his brother knew what had happened to him, how he'd been whisked off from Stanfield's property trapped in this stupid cage. But would Sam be able to find him? That was the question.

The cage landed with a loud clump on the backside of a large freighter. Dean's jaw clacked together, almost making him bite his tongue. Gingerly, he unhooked his claws from the cage floor, the muscles trying to cramp, praying they weren't going to move him anymore. The stink of oil, gas, and rust permeated the air.

With no voice, Dean couldn't get anyone on the docks and now on the ship to listen to him, other than to make them cringe away, make them careful not to get close enough for claw range. He'd never thought he'd tire of being a jaguar, but he wasn't feeling too excited about the whole thing anymore. Not being able to communicate, not being able to make anyone listen, was getting way too old.

Heck, he'd even tried to initiate the change though Sam was nowhere near him, and got a load of nothing. There had been a strange pressure on his chest when he'd seen Sammy on the road with Baby, but it was more than likely just part of the panic attack he'd been suffering from at the time. Waking up from being tranked to find yourself hundreds of feet up in the air inside a swaying cage had more than called for one.

"Don't see one of those every day."

Dean's ears swiveled behind him then he slowly turned his head in the direction of the heavy New York accent. Grizzled and worn looking, the heavyset man oozing authority gave him the once over from a discreet distance. Dean guessed he must be the ship's captain. He didn't look exactly happy to have him there. Dean knew exactly how he felt, definitely not excited to find himself there either.

Dean paced back and forth in the cage, never taking his gaze off the captain, trying to figure out a way to talk to him.

"Better ask Cook to stock up on more meat. Also file extra paperwork with our usual guy. I'll get some cash from the safe." The captain shook his head. "The boss really surprises me sometimes." With that he turned around and left, taking the other man with him.

Dean wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or not. Food meant life, so they weren't going to outright kill him. But it also didn't say anything about what exactly they had in mind to do with him. He had a horrible feeling there was a zoo or some private hunting reserve slated for his future. He was screwed and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

_Come on, Sammy, find me!_

He coughed a call out into the air, the sound reverberating among the metal shipping canisters being noisily stacked around him, then absorbed into the chaotic cacophony of the busy New York dock.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Sam felt the fury and the feeling of helplessness, which had been building inside him over the last day, try to get away from him, looking for some outlet, any outlet, and he clamped down on it with everything he could. Letting loose would be selfindulgent, totally unproductive and he couldn't afford it. The only thing that mattered was getting Dean back!

He stared at his new self in the mirror, at the tailored grey suit, the baby blue shirt and dark grey tie. He'd trimmed his hair and oiled before combing it back. Manicure, lotions, the works. Every detail looked after to make him seem as something he was not.

He'd had to call in a lot of favors to try to pull one of the biggest scams ever and pull it fast. He was running on little to no sleep, only the heat of wanting to hurt someone for taking his brother keeping him going at a hundred miles an hour.

He would save Dean. He would save him from Stanfield. He would save him from his deal. Nothing else mattered. Not Ix Chel, not the nawal, _nothing_.

The urge to pace was strong, but he kept himself in check, giving into any impulse being the first step in loosing total control. Instead he turned around to inspect the setting of his expensive trap.

Sam stood in the parlor of the Royal Suite of the famed New York Waldorf Towers. Pictures of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, who'd once lived on the premises, and other famous guests of the room lay nestled on small tables and on the grand piano in the corner, giving the place a homey, lived in feel. The entire room was done in the mode of a French manor house salon -- European small couches and plush upholstered chairs set around strategically to make quaint private areas in the huge open room. Gold leaf panel moldings, Tiffany blue walls, hand woven petit-point floral carpet, crystal chandeliers, the place smelled of wood oil and Jasmine. It took up the entire 50th floor. A slice of old style elegance -- it would serve as the honey that would draw in his fly.

This _had_ to work.

He could only maintain the façade for a couple of days at most. The press would eventually catch wind of who was supposedly in town, or someone from the hotel staff might check his credit, or a million other little things that could expose him and he'd been unable to do anything about. Dean would be the first to tell him he was insane for even trying this. The risk and likely punishment for the impersonation and fraud he was pulling here way over anything they'd ever done. Pretending to be a government official was one thing, but overseas royalty? He had no choice though. None at all.

Bela had to bite. She just had to. Though she'd gone to ground, he hoped she still kept her ears on the grapevine in the hopes of landing a job. With the rumors he'd started circulating, and a few well placed notices on the net, he was hoping she would run across the information about a princeling wanting to get his hands on a rare Assyrian artifact who was also well willing to pay a large sum for it. He prayed it would prove more of a temptation than she could stand.

Stanfield kept his dealings too secret. Sam had been unable to find anything that would lead him to his brother. It would take too much time to ferret it out, time Dean might not have. But Bela, Bela knew Stanfield. She was too cunning and self-preserving to work for someone she didn't know about, intimately, especially if he was a repeat customer.

She was his only hope. Without her, Dean was done for.

Sam closed his eyes, feeling suddenly dizzy, the pit opening up inside him again, calling him. He tried to rally back, splaying his feet wide, the teeth of despair sharper than he ever expected. If he lost him, if he lost Dean now or when his year was up, this would be but a sampling of what the pain would be like. He wasn't sure he could survive it. Not when he knew Dean had given away his future because of him.

A soft knock startled him out of his thoughts.

Forming his face into a blank expression, he turned in the direction of the arched entryway. The manservant he'd requested from the hotel stood attentively at the doorway, a silver tray in his hands.

"Sir, there's someone here wishing to see you. I took the liberty of requesting their card."

Sam wanted to leap forward to look at who'd arrived, but instead forced himself to take slow steps forward. The card on the tray was a soft ivory color, the embossed lettering in black and gold. Runes and other symbols Sam wasn't acquainted with lightly marked the background. He made no move to touch it, not trusting his quarry not to have somehow done something to the card, but read it instead.

Bela Talbot. Procurer of Unique Items.

Sam felt his heart slam against his chest. She was here. She had come.

He had to swallow hard before he could find his voice, lightly laying on the accent which was part of his current identity. "Please show her in and ask her to wait. Then you may leave. She and I have some private matters to discuss and I do not want to be disturbed."

"As you wish, sir."

Sam didn't watch him leave but moved off to the side and away from immediate view, half hiding beside a tall cherry wood hutch. He could feel a trickle of sweat slowly making its way down his back despite the cool air, the silk shirt trying its best to absorb it. He tried to clear his mind and pretend to be nothing and no one, using the hunter skills his father had ingrained in him long ago. He knew Bela was sharp and he could in no way afford to underestimate her. The price would be too high.

"If you would wait in here, please? The prince should be with you shortly."

Sam went deadly still. She was here.

As someone stepped into the room, he didn't look at them directly, knowing how people could feel it when they were being stared at. Bela had come as someone other than her usual self, obviously still being cautious about this new possible client. She wore a long black wig, dark glasses, flat shoes for a fast getaway, and a muted light brown business suit. None of that would be serving her today.

He watched as her gaze surveyed the room before her and stopped at the small table gracing the back of the couch before her. Sitting there, just as he'd placed it, was a golden stand and hook, holding up an Ojibway Dreamcatcher. Sam had taken it from the Impala's trunk, knowing it was the real deal. It would prevent nightmares induced by certain creatures of the night from invading children's dreams. It was something he knew Bela wouldn't be able to resist for true dreamcatchers were rare. And she proved him right as despite all the expensive antiques around her, Bela homed in on the small object as if nothing else there were worth anything at all.

With her distracted, Sam made his move.

Taking two long steps, he got up behind her and grabbed her arm and twisted it up behind her back.

Even as she gasped in pain, Bela's other hand snaked into her jacket bringing out a gun. Having expected this, Sam smacked it out of her hand with a chop to her wrist then grabbed that arm as well. Shifting her to the right of the small table, he half draped her over the back of the padded couch, spreading and pinning her legs with his so she couldn't kick him.

"Who are _you_? What are you doing?" Though she tried hard not to show it, the shock at being attacked without seeming provocation showed in her voice. "Where is the prince?"

"You really shouldn't go around betraying people, _Talbot_."

Her head snapped around as far as it could trying to catch a look at him. "Winchester?"

"It's just not very _nice_." He was amazed at how cold he sounded, but at the moment he really didn't care. This woman was responsible for the fact his brother was missing. She would be the means of getting him back, whether she liked it or not. "Now you're going to help me fix things."

"I – I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't you?" He twisted one of her arms just a little higher. He felt twistedly satisfied as this elicited a hiss of pain from her. "You know, the backstabbing little phone call to your buddy Stanfield? Letting him know someone might be on their way to pay him a visit?"

"He's my employer. I couldn't just let you rob him. He would blame _me_!"

Sam loomed over her, bringing his face close to her ear even as he bent her further over the couch. "I don't really care. All I care about right now is finding out what you and your _friend_ have done with my brother. And you're going to tell me. You're going to tell me _right now_."

"Your brother?" She tried to twist enough to look back at him. "What are you talking about? I heard Stanfield captured that nasty beast not your brother."

"That nasty beast, as you put it, _is_ my brother."

He felt Bela stiffen under him in surprise.

"And I'll do whatever I have to to get him back." He put more of his weight on her. "In case you haven't gotten the memo, I'm not all that high with patience or benefit of the doubt anymore. Especially with people who've previously _shot_ me." His face twisted with distaste, hating to do this type of thing, but he didn't let up the pressure. She was his only hope. Instead he pushed her arm up just a bit more for emphasis. "Now answer my question!"

Bela hissed in discomfort. "You won't hurt me…You don't _want_ to hurt me."

"Oh yeah?" She had bigger balls than Dean. "Think what you like. But you don't know me." He applied just a touch more pressure to her arm. No, he wouldn't kill her, but a broken arm or dislocated shoulder would definitely give her something to think about.

"You don't…want to…hurt me." She spilled the same phrase again through gritted teeth.

A strange smell tickled Sam's nose even as he subconsciously loosened his grip on Bela's arms just a smidge. He didn't really want to do this, did he?

"There's no reason to hurt me…It's all just a misunderstanding…"

But Dean. Dean was missing. And she was the key. He shook his head feeling suddenly lost and somewhat confused. The strange smell was somehow familiar, though he couldn't quite place it. Was it important? He didn't know. It was just that…

The place where the bag hung on his chest in the Mayan dream world grew warm and twitched. A flash of insight reminded him that power had this smell. Power he wasn't using, but was being used on him. Bela was using some sort of spell.

Several pieces now clicked into place. She procured rare and unique items for sale to the highest bidder, but there was no reason why she wouldn't keep a few pieces here or there for herself, especially if they would provide a modicum of protection – as in diffusing violent reactions and thoughts. And she'd used this on them before – at least once. It was the only reason Dean hadn't strangled her right there and then after she'd shot Sam in the shoulder. It had disturbed him at the time that his brother had so little of a reaction – this coming from his usually overprotective sibling. Yet if his hypothesis was true that whole odd episode finally made perfect sense!

But Bela wouldn't be using her tricks to weasel out of what he needed now.

"You witch!" Sam strengthened his hold on her and twisted her arm up with a yank until she gave a small screech. "You'll stop whatever it is you're doing right now! _It's not going to work on me."_

He relaxed his hold just a tad hoping his point had been made.

"I didn't know you were into this kind of kink, Sam." Her voice was low and throaty. He felt her suddenly relax beneath him. "You truly didn't need to go to all this trouble. All you had to do was ask."

He felt the blood rush to his face as he realized what she was talking about. Though he'd not thought of it at the time, to anyone walking in, they would seem to be in a rather compromising position. His body really was all over her. His blush deepened making his ears burn as well.

Sex of any kind was the last thing on his mind right now, no matter what she was implying. And neither was it on hers, this was just another way to try to escape for her.

"Bela…tell me where my brother is. All I want is to save my brother. And I will do _whatever_ it takes." He took a deep steadying breath. "How far I have to take this is solely up to you. But don't make the mistake of thinking I won't go there. I want my brother back!"

He could almost feel the wheels in her brain turning as he continued to hold her draped over the back of the couch.

"All right. I'll help you." Her voice had turned all business. "I don't know where he is, but I can find out. Let me go."

Now it was Sam's turn to think. "I want your word you won't try anything, that you'll truly help me find my brother."

"What? Don't you trust me?" Her tone was teasing, self-confident, almost smug. Sam wasn't sure he could have pulled that off if their situations were reversed.

"Your word. As a thief."

"That's procurer of unique items." There was a chiding tone in her voice. "Thief is such a low class word. I explained this to your brother before."

Sam nudged her arm up for less than a second.

"All right, all right! You have my word."

Hoping he wasn't making a terrible mistake, Sam backed up a step and let her go. He reached beneath his suit coat and brought out the Taurus from the small of his back. He made sure to aim it in her direction where she could easily see.

Bela righted herself slowly, rubbing at her abused arms. Sam made sure not to be too close.

She turned and stared him up and down, ignoring the gun, even as she straightened the skewed wig on her head by feel alone. "Hm, like Dean, you don't turn out too bad when you try."

Sam felt a frown forming on his face, not caring one bit about her opinion and refusing to become self-conscious about it. "My brother. _Now_."

She gave him one more sweeping look then reached for the small purse that had dropped to the floor during the melee.

"Nice and slow please." He aimed the gun straight at her heart.

She gave him a half pout. "You really don't trust me. That hurts a girl's feelings you know."

Sam kept up a blank mask on his face and said nothing, though inside he was screaming at how much time all this was taking.

Bela opened the small purse and pulled out a thin cell phone. Flipping it open, she ignored him and the gun and tabbing through the contacts list soon dialed a call. She leaned back against the very couch Sam had had her draped over before.

"Hello, Simon. It's Bela." She looked up at Sam and sent him a wink. He shook his head doubting he'd ever understand the woman. "Remember our black furred friend? I've come up with a possible buyer if Mr. Stanfield would like to get rid of it. He's offered an opening sum of twenty thousand, but would be willing to go higher once he gets a look at it. Of course, there would be a finder's fee in it for you, if I can close the deal. Might you know where the cat is?"

Sam tried hard not to fidget, unable to hear the reply from the other end. He wanted to kick himself for not telling her to put the thing in speaker mode.

"Thanks, Simon. You're the best. Be in touch soon." Bela flipped the phone closed. She stared at him, a small smile on her lips.

It didn't inspire Sam with any good feelings at all. His hand tightened around the gun. "Where's my brother?"

"Now, Sam, surely we don't need to continue the hostilities." She gave him a raised brow. "Dean is on a freighter at the Elizabeth Marine Terminal in New Jersey." She told him the berth and slip number. "I would hurry if I were you. From what I understand, it's scheduled to leave in the morning and security there is no cakewalk."

She was being way too accommodating. Something was up. After the event at her condo and his attack on her here, there was no way Bela wouldn't be holding a grudge unless she thought she was getting away with something. That's when he noticed it. The dreamcatcher, it was gone.

"Bela, give it back."

"Excuse me?" Her face was a study in confusion and utter innocence.

"Could we not play any more games, please? Give the dreamcatcher back. It doesn't belong to me. You can't have it."

"Can't blame a girl for trying." She was smiling in way too good a humor as she slipped the dreamcatcher out of her pocket. She extended it out toward him and to the side then let it slip from her fingers.

The moment Sam's attention left her to the falling object she struck.

Her foot lashed out and smacked the Taurus out of his hand. Sam grimaced at the pain but didn't go after the gun. Bela's best chance would be to follow up after the kick as he would be dashing for the weapon. So he did the total opposite and ignored it, instead turning his full attention on her. He barely dodged the back of her hand as she lashed out with it up to try to take him by the chin.

Letting instinct and way too many fight training sessions take over, Sam got his arm around her, flipped her sideways, and smacked her to the carpeted floor. He pinned her down on the ground.

"Sam…really…didn't I already tell you….all you had to do…was ask?"

She sounded angry and excited all at once. It made no sense to him at all. Surely this wasn't her idea of foreplay? The thought sent weird chills to rather unexpected places. Her madness must be contagious.

"I'm sorry, Bela, I'd hoped it wouldn't have to be this way, but you leave me no choice." Making sure her hands were in a solid hold in his right hand, Sam used his left to remove a small coil of rope from the interior pocket of his suit jacket.

"Well, well, that will make things even more interesting, won't it? I've been wanting hate sex with the wrong brother after all."

Sam blushed all the way to his roots and beyond. Yes, her madness was definitely contagious. Something he could ill afford right now.

Setting the rope to the side, he reached up and pulled out the silk handkerchief in his front outer jacket pocket. Before she could realize what he was doing, he stuffed it in her mouth.

Her eyes grew wide her expression turning quite unpleasant. Before she could spit out the handkerchief and voice her lowered opinion of him, Sam pinned her hands to remove his tie and tied the gag in place.

Now all he had to do was truss her up and firmly bind her to one of the padded chairs, leave a 'do not disturb' sign, and hope she would be out of commission long enough for him to do what he needed to do without more of her unwanted backstabbing.

His brother would have told him she truly had little to complain about. How many people got bound up with silk and were left in a 3,000 a night suite? She should take it as a compliment. He could so just see her doing that. Right….


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Dean was bored. Bored, bored, bored, bored, _bored_.

He had no Ipod, no Magic Fingers. The stupid cage wasn't even big enough to pace in properly. This was no way to live. Worse, he was stuck here for who knew how long. Days, maybe weeks, depending on where they were going. And not even any good looking chicks to stare at, just a bunch of greasy, over muscled, unkempt guys. Bleah.

He hadn't died yet and he was already in hell. What about this was fair?

He rolled onto his back and felt sorry for himself. It wasn't like there was anything else to do.

After a high shrieking whistle that had made him grit his teeth in pain, the majority of the activity at the port had died away. A few crewmen had come by with clipboards and ropes, checking the containers already loaded and tied down, but that had been about it. Bright halogen lights lit up parts of the deck and dock area and he could hear the occasional security guard make his way past the ship and some of the crew paced the deck to secure the ship from them.

Cook showed up well after dark, and grumbling under his breath about things not in his job description had thrown some chunks of raw meat inside Dean's cell and shoved over a bucket of water with the end of a mop, making sure to stay well away from him.

Dean's lunge for the water had almost made the guy wet his pants. What? Couldn't a guy be thirsty around here? As it was he'd been panting hard for the previous hour. He hadn't had a thing to drink all day!

When his kidneys told him it was time to empty, Dean made the most of it. He attempted to write 'help' on the side of the nearest cargo crate but his aim was off a bit. It was nowhere near as easy to do in this form as his normal one.

He tried hard not to think about Sammy and the thousand reasons why the latter hadn't come for him yet. Depending on how offended Bela was, she could have made life real hard for him. Hell, with his luck, she was probably the only one with information on where he had been taken, and finding her, let alone making her cooperate was no easy thing.

He'd really messed things up this time. Wasting what time he had left in a cage and no Sammy to harass the crap out of was not what he'd had in mind at all for his last remaining months.

He flexed his shivs in and out trying hard to distract himself. Nothing good would come of thinking about it. He just had to trust Sam would find a way to figure out where he was and get him out -- even if Dean had to hear about it for weeks on end.

His ears swiveled toward the dock, a new set of footsteps making the rounds. As they came parallel to the ship, they went quiet, almost as if they'd been swallowed up by the night. Could it be?

Dean rolled back up to his feet, his mouth opening to cough out a call. At the last moment, he slammed his mouth shut. He didn't dare call out. All it would do was draw attention to himself. And if that was who he hoped it was, it would be the worst thing he could do. _Find me, Sammy, I know you can_.

A light burning sensation spread over his chest. It was a lot like the one he'd felt when the helicopter had passed over his brother. Every time he'd changed he'd felt tied to Sam and to his power somehow. Maybe they were tied together more than just when he changed. He just hadn't felt it before because they'd never been apart.

With every ounce of will he could pool together, Dean wished for his brother to find him, to know where he was. He so desperately wanted out of this dammed place.

He took a deep breath, trying to see if he could sense Sam, but there were too many scents to separate and the light wind was blowing in the wrong direction.

The minutes ticked by and nothing changed. Dean paced back and forth despite the cramp space finding himself with too much pent up energy.

His ears swiveled again as something hit flesh followed by a soft thud as a body hit the metal deck. Dean's tail swished rapidly back and forth sure it had to be his brother.

More minutes of nothing. Yet the warmth at his chest was increasing. Sam was definitely here.

He sniffed again and he finally caught it – the familiar scent he hadn't been sure he'd ever smell again – Sam.

A couple of moments later he actually spotted him sneaking closer. Dean could have cried at the sight. Sam was dressed in what looked to be some kind of security uniform and had a backpack slung over one shoulder. Less than a minute later, his brother was on the other side of the bars.

"Hey." Sammy looked as relieved at seeing him as he was to see his younger brother. "I've come to let your sorry ass out. Though it would serve you right if I just let them take you."

Dean couldn't help but grin. Sammy had been worried about him, really worried – how sweet.

Sam knelt down close to the bars, set the small backpack off to the side, then pulled out his lock picks, the padlock to the cage a big lump of metal at the bottom. Dean pressed his angled face to the bars and licked the side of his brother's face.

With a grimace, Sammy pulled back and used his hand to shove Dean's head away from him. "Yeah, yeah, I missed you too. Now let me do this, will you? This boat is crawling with unfriendly people, so the sooner we get off the better."

Dean forced himself to sit on his haunches and wait, willing Sam to hurry. Less than a minute later, the lock popped open. His brother drew it out of the loop and then gingerly raised up the gate trying to keep the noise to a minimum.

The moment there was enough space, Dean shot out to freedom. Despite it being a cliché, the air really had never smelled so sweet. The urge to proclaim his joy to the world was almost more than he could handle. He held back though as it would very likely just get them killed. Instead he took off to scout ahead and get both him and Sam off the ship. Everything else could come later.

His nose and ears let them dodge those making rounds on deck. They passed a still unconscious crewman, who was semi propped up at the place where Sam had taken him down. Dean stopped for a second and let some leftover pee spray over him. Served the bastard right. Poor schmuck wouldn't be getting rid of that smell anytime soon. Hah!

They eventually raced down the gangplank as two indistinct shadows to lose themselves in the maze of warehouses on the dock below.

The moment Dean was sure they were safe and there was no one anywhere near them, he tackled Sam down and started licking his face, neck, arms.

"Dean, _dammit_. Not now! Stop!"

It just wasn't enough. Nowhere near enough. He'd almost lost Sammy, lost him way earlier than he would soon and forever. Without thinking about what he was doing, Dean willed the change.

Sam gasped beneath him as the connection between them pulled power from him. A moment later he saw his brother close his eyes and Words come pouring from his mouth. Within moments Dean could sense other beings gathering around them as Sam called for help with the transformation. He would have laughed if his body hadn't been in flux, glad that his brother had decided to see reason and not to take the burden of power solely on himself for once.

The channeling of energy was much more controlled than the first time they'd tried this with outside help and things seemed to progress without a hitch. The spirits didn't even seem all that bothered about the lack of offerings, almost as if they knew their situation and were willing to make some concessions. He was sure Sam would make it up to them when he got a chance.

As soon as the last tingling feeling began to dissipate and Dean felt like his normal self, he dragged his brother to his feet and hugged him as if he never meant to let go. Much to his surprise and pleasure, Sam returned the hug just as earnestly. He felt the reassuring pounding of his brother's heart merging with his and finally dared to believe they were actually together again.

Sam let go of him, but he didn't reciprocate. He then felt his brother start to fidget at the continued contact, but Dean just wasn't quite ready to release him yet.

"Uhm, Dean? It's not that I'm not happy to see you or anything, but… Dude, you're naked."

Dean let go as if he'd been given an electric shock. "Oh…" He took a step back, his gaze looking anywhere but at his brother, his face feeling hot. Parts of him shrunk even more than normal and tried to hide away, the rest of him suddenly too aware of his unclothed state. "_Awkward_."

"Totally." Sam took off the small backpack and offered it to him. "Brought some clothes for you. Figured you might need them. There's food in there as well."

"Thanks." Dean grabbed it and turned away, still not meeting his brother's gaze. "I guess there's some bits about this whole changing business I still need to work out." He got dressed in record time. He then grabbed one of the energy drinks in the backpack and several beef sticks, passing some of the same over to Sam.

"We should get out of here. Bela's bound to be steaming mad and she knows where we are." Sam chugged the drink, looking a little pale around the edges but otherwise okay.

"Figured this whole thing was her fault, the bitch. Hope you gave her some of what was coming to her." Dean knew Sam was too soft to give her what she really deserved, but one could hope.

Sam's face lit up for a second with a grin. "I don't think she'll be forgetting our last two meetings anytime soon."

Dean picked up the backpack from the ground his gaze shying away again. "I should have waited. You wouldn't have had to come bail me out if I had."

He peeked up at Sam and saw a look of startled surprise on his brother's face.

"No, Dean. We should have just done it like you wanted in the first place."

He shrugged. "Maybe, but I should have never gone alone. That was my bad."

"Sure was, _jerk_." Sam shoved him hard in the shoulder.

Dean covered up a pleased grin. "Bitch."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

As they drove down the road, Sam found himself throwing hidden glances in Dean's direction over and over again. To actually have been able to find him and get him out seemed like something surreal or maybe imagined. After all the horrid scenarios that had run rampant through his mind, he still couldn't quite believe he'd gotten his brother back.

Only thing left was to figure out how not to lose him when his contract was up.

But first things first.

"I'm assuming we're not going to drop the mission for Ix Chel despite the new complications?"

Dean's head bopped up and down to the guitar solo from Don't Fear the Reaper, which was playing softly over the radio. "Damn right we're not!"

This Sam had pretty much figured. The hard part though was coming up. "Okay then…If we're gonna do this, I mean _really_ do this, then I would honestly prefer you stayed yourself for it." He waited for the explosion he was sure would follow.

"No problem."

Sam half turned in the bench seat waiting for his brother to grow horns and a tail, or someone to jump up from the back of the car and tell him he was on Candid Camera, or it was April Fool's or something. "No problem? Who are you and what have you done with my stupid brother?"

Dean didn't look at him but after a moment or two sent a sheepish look in his direction. "Don't get me wrong, Sammy. Being a jaguar is freaking _awesome_. But I realize that it's not always the most viable form."

Sam almost ogled. His brother was using 'Big Words'. Viable? Since when did Dean even know what that meant?

Another quick look flashed in his direction. Sam was utterly speechless.

"Dude, I couldn't talk, okay? Nobody understood me. They wouldn't really even look at me. I mean, they just thought I was some dumb animal, some _thing_. And they were about to ship me off to who knows where and didn't give a rat's ass about how I felt about it or whatever."

Wow. He should have thought of putting Dean in a cage and threatening to ship him off to some private zoo himself sooner. Who knew it would prove this effective. Feeling grateful to Bela for her backstabbing ways felt really wrong somehow but still. "Okay…"

Sam took a moment to regather his thoughts. Dean's quiescence on the subject of not changing forms had thrown him for a tall loop. "You were there, you saw what they have. How do we get in and get the nawal back? Did you even find it?"

Dean turned off the radio, but said nothing for several long moments, just staring out into the dark road. Then he pulled over to the shoulder and brought them to a stop and let the engine idle.

"Dean?"

His brother licked his lower lip then rubbed at his jaw for good measure. "Yeah, I found it. Unless they've moved it I know exactly where it is. But…"

Sam could feel his brows drawing together, Dean's subdued tone troubling him. "Yeah?"

His brother turned to face him. "The nawal manifested."

Sam blinked, hearing the words but not understanding what his brother meant. "What?"

"Come on, you know what I'm talking about. You're the shaman, dude, not me. Lanah even talked about it."

Sam felt weird prickles rise up his back. His eyes grew wide. "It took human form?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, a scrawny little kid. He even tried to warn me. He looked pretty scared, and that can't be good."

Sam rubbed his suddenly moist palms on his pantlegs. "No, I'm sure it isn't."

Dean smiled, his eyes shinning. "Don't worry though. I have a plan."

That didn't make him feel better one bit.

--

"Dude, this will so not work!" Sam's harsh whisper cut through the darkness as Dean opened the duffel and started taking out boxes.

"It will absolutely work, Sammy. I'm telling you, it's perfect."

Sam just stared at him wondering why he kept letting his brother do this type of thing to him. "You're just wanting to use this as an excuse to use them is all, admit it!"

Dean shook his head in denial even as he flashed him a smile. "Part of the plan, Sammy. All part of the plan."

They both ducked down as headlights wove up the path from the estate across the road. The gate opened up and a shinny silver Rolls Royce headed off to the left away from them. With the tinted windows, there was no way to tell who was leaving. It would be too much to hope it was Stanfield and most of his security force.

"You're nuts." Sam knew he shouldn't be surprised by the fact anymore, but somehow his brother kept springing it on him.

"Only if it doesn't work. If it does, then I'm a genius!" The smile flashed again, the wattage this time almost blinding even in the ensuing dark. "Now hold the flashlight still. I have work to do."

Shaking his head but still doing as asked, Sam watched his brother as he opened boxes and gently extricated long firework rockets. They were across the Stanfield property, having parked the Impala a mile or more off and hiking to their current location using the cover from the maple, birch, and oak trees of the surrounding properties. The flashlight shined a subdued red light, which gave off just enough illumination to see by yet wouldn't hamper their night vision or be as easily visible to anyone across the street.

Despite himself, Sam watched fascinated as Dean set up the fireworks in two long rows, some angled almost level with the road while others pointed up toward the sky. He tied extra fuses to the ends of each one, coiling them all into a master line which he set off to the side, carefully clearing away dead leaves and sticks from the vicinity.

Sam might have his brother beat in terms of book learning and grades, but Dean had a genius all his own when it came to gadgets and physical things. It was something that was easy to overlook, but one did so at their peril. When it came to the hunt, Dean was the master, not Sam. And while this wasn't exactly their usual kind of job, it was close enough it didn't matter.

Now if they could only pull it off.

"Come on, we need to set up a couple of other spots for these." Dean grabbed his duffles and they sneaked off to the next target area and another after that.

"Okay…we're set. Should have a good seven to ten minute lead once I light this last batch so we can position ourselves in back."

Sam felt his pulse speed up, the point of no return almost upon them. He could swear Dean's eyes almost glowed like yellow jaguar eyes ready to pounce. He double-checked the load of his Taurus PT 99 even as Dean checked his Colt 1911.

"You ready?"

"Yeah." He slipped the Taurus back to its usual place behind the small of his back, sending a small prayer that he wouldn't be forced to use it. Though if it were a question of another human being or his brother, he wouldn't hesitate. His days of not killing humans was half a year behind him. Jake had seen to that. And as much as he despised doing it, it was getting easier. Had to get easier. For he must be prepared to do whatever was necessary to keep his brother alive and find the means of getting him out of his deal. Though Dean hated her in an almost rabid fashion, Ruby still made an awful lot of sense. In the end she might even be Dean's only hope.

"Come on!"


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Dean lit the fuse on the third batch of fireworks then backtracked through the woods. He was aware of Sammy following close behind him on multiple levels. If he concentrated, his knew his chest would warm and let him know where he was as well.

He'd had a lot of time to think while in that cage. And forming this plan and studying all the angles had kept him busy and mostly sane while waiting for Sammy to somehow find him. Though he knew his brother didn't get it, the fireworks had several jobs in the coming rescue. They would play havoc with the motion sensors on the walls, they'd distract any guards out and about on the grounds and hopefully keep them from getting darts shot into them, and later, it would bring the cops, which could be used for backup and a rescue if things for some reason went real bad. Saved by the cops, that'd be a new one for the Winchester books.

He brought them to the vicinity of the same section of wall he'd used to get over the last time and settled down to wait. Sammy hunkered down beside him as Dean opened the duffel and pulled out two grappling hooks and rope.

He glanced down at his watch with the red light and figured they had another couple of minutes. He checked the duffel's inventory one last time. They were as ready as they could be.

A high piercing whistle cut through the night almost instantly followed by another. There was an echoing explosion by what he thought was the vicinity of the estate's front gate and flashes of red, white, and blue bled up into the sky and were visible even this far down the over four acre property. A glowing yellow tail rose high into the sky and burst into a giant blossom. An almost physical thud rang in the air and a car alarm brayed in response somewhere. Lights went on and off all over the place throughout the estate.

It was time. "Let's go!"

Dean ran for the wall and swinging the first grappling hook in a circle a few times, let it fly. It clamped onto the top of the wall and after a hard yank, clung there. He shimmied up the rope onto the wall and dropped off the second grapple on other side and went on down. Sam was but a second behind him.

Crouching down, Dean led them across the tree dotted yard, using any cover they could, keeping his eyes peeled for guards. More fireworks were tearing loose at the front and sides of the property and into the sky, a lot of shouting and cursing echoing about as well. A thin echo of glass breaking reached them as one of the low rockets apparently ricocheted off the gate and flew straight at the main house.

Dean couldn't help grinning like a madman.

A minute later they were standing in front of the metal hut, the same one where he had seen the boy. "This is it. Cover me."

Sam pulled out his PT99 and went into a half crouch, using the hut for cover as he kept lookout. "Dean, something's not right about this place."

He opened the duffel. "The hut, the grounds, what?" He pulled out a mini sized Halligan crowbar. It would serve to take care of his lock problem and do it fast to boot.

Sammy shook his head, Dean able to see flashes of the troubled look plastered on his face as more fireworks lit up the night. His brother's gaze never stopped scanning the area. "I dunno. All of it? I can't put my finger on it. But something is off here."

Dean remembered how he'd smelled something not quite right when he'd been here before in jaguar form. Could that be what his brother's senses were homing in on? Hopefully it wouldn't be something they'd have to worry about. Anyway, first things first.

As a burst of bright gold and red lit up the evening sky, Dean threw a peek inside the hut. Wide dark eyes reflected the light back at him. "Hey, kid. I'm back. Have you out in a minute." He jammed the Halligan into the lock and put his weight behind it.

"Dean, hurry."

"Dude, I'm working on it!" He grimaced as he pushed even harder, his muscles bunching together. Damn it, what kind of lock was this? His arms started to shake from the strain, sweat already pooling at his armpits and the side of his face from the stress. He shifted slightly and pushed even more. No way were they leaving empty handed.

Suddenly Sammy was at his side adding his own weight to the problem. With a tortured screech, the lock abruptly gave up the ghost. Dean fell to his knees at the unexpected victory. "Damn, that was a nasty one!"

He threw the crowbar back into the duffel and then opened the small hut's door. "Come on, kid, let's take you back where you belong." He reached inside to pull him out.

His hand encountered skin yet what felt at the same time like cloth. It was creepy yet made sense all at once. He was feeling multiple realities of the nawal at the same time.

Small hands clamped around his arm and he brought the boy forward. When he reached the edge of the doorway something odd happened. The boy's hands fell away and though he could feel the bundle that was the nawal moving with his hands, the boy did not. A thin wail of pain ripped out from within the hut. Dean immediately thrust his hands and the bundle back inside. "What the hell!"

"Dean, I think we have a problem."

He snapped around, his gun in his hand expecting trouble but the area was still clear. He glanced up at his brother and noticed that he wasn't looking out anymore, but was instead studying the bars of the hut with the red light.

"Someone went to a lot of trouble, Dean. This holding case isn't just for decoration." Sam's fingers traced patterns stamped into the metal Dean couldn't see clearly from where he knelt. "It's got Mayan inscriptions on it and a couple of other types of symbols I don't recognize. I think whoever commissioned this, wanted to make sure the nawal wouldn't be able to leave once it got put in there."

"Shit!" The fireworks distraction wouldn't hold out for much longer. He still hadn't heard sirens from the cops, so there was no telling when they'd get here. The plan had been for them to sneak in here grab the nawal and get out. Now things were getting complicated. Not good.

"Okay, Sammy, you're the shaman on this team. Something you can do about it? I'm assuming me just scarring up the crap would do squat."

"I…I don't know. I'm not sure."

There was an odd tremor in Sam's voice Dean had never heard before. Was this place affecting his brother in some way? Definitely not good.

He pulled Sam down using the hut for cover. "Dude, Ix Chel gave you memories, right? And we know you can channel power. And surely the fireworks are a kind of creation, so we got honey. There's got to be something in that noggin of yours we can use. And it's got to be now."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Sam chewed on his lower lip, knowing Dean was right, but not feeling good about the idea at all. The moment he came over the wall he felt he should have never come here. There was something just _wrong_ about the place. Something evil. The air going in and out of his lungs felt heavy, somehow tainted, and it felt as if it were leaving a filmy residue on and inside of him each time he breathed or moved. And he had a vibe deep inside him that if he did as his brother wanted things were somehow going to get worse.

"Come on, Sammy. The kid is counting on us." Dean was staring at him with that look, the one that said this was why they existed, that it was part of the family business. That he believed Sam could do this with no trouble at all.

Sam sat on the ground and crossed his legs, figuring he should at least try, though he felt Dean's trust was probably misplaced. He was so out of his element with all this Mayan stuff it was insane. Yet his brother had gone along with every aspect of this mess as if it were normal, just like last time. As far as he was concerned this all went way beyond even their normally abnormal lives.

He tried to relax, slow his breathing, and stared up into the sky, seeking the moon. Ix Chel had set them on this path. She had supposedly given them everything they might need. And he had to tap into that, had to recall the proper things to get them out of this, he had to draw on his heart and join with the other worlds.

A three quarter moon peeked out from behind a bank of clouds and suddenly Sam felt some of his trepidation leave him as if he'd thrown off a cloak he hadn't known he was wearing. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to feel the moon's light bathing him, infusing him, unlocking the doors of memory as he searched for what he needed – and there it was.

He spoke the Words and the connection to the worlds grew inside him so the realities merged around him. He called for those who could help him, even as he turned so the pouch attached to his chest could feast upon the remnants of creation from the fireworks above.

He heard the answering call of the spirits who had helped him before, those who knew him, but they were muted. Something was interfering. Whatever was wrong with this place, a wrongness that almost seemed to glow with darkness all around, was keeping them away. He would get no help from them. He would have to rely on his own strength and that of his bundle alone.

The sound of sirens echoed off in the distance, but he paid not attention to them. Instead, he gathered what strength he could and turned around toward the hut. Words continued to stream from his lips in ever curving cadences, his gaze wondering over the now glowing symbols on the metal before him, studying the structure of those Words and how he might affect them.

Then he found it. The key. And he knew it could be done.

Pooling the power into his fingertips and stringing Words to cover them, Sam reached toward the symbol and its syllabary pieces and through it, separating one of them in the other worlds, which in turn affected its reality here so the tiny piece disappeared. The change altered the carved Word and its meaning, which then transformed the chain of all the rest.

There was a clap of sound and light which boomed from the metal yet couldn't be heard or seen in this realm. Suddenly Sam felt like a giant bowl of jello, dizzy, weak, and gasping for breath, his whole body shaking. He leaned against the hut, not sure he could continue sitting up on his own.

"Sammy?"

Dean knelt in front of him, his worry radiating in waves.

"Just…just…need a…minute…" He closed his eyes, trying to rally enough to think about attempting to get up.

Warm hands touched his face and neck and he sighed softly, for once welcoming the contact. Then Dean touched his chest and Sam jerked up straight, his eyelids flying open as a different type of warmth flowed up and around from there. "No!"

"Dude, chill. I'm your nagual, remember? Your strength."

Sam's body had stopped shaking, so he batted Dean's hand away breaking the connection. He did feel better, but didn't want to do so at his brother's expense. "I'm okay. That's enough." To prove it, he lurched to his feet. Though he swayed dangerously for a moment, he was able to stay upright.

"Is it done?"

Sam didn't miss Dean's focused gaze studying him from head to toe trying to figure out if he was lying. "Yeah, it's done. Though something here kept me from getting help."

His brother didn't look one bit happy about that. "Let's get the hell out of here then." He reached inside the open hut and came out with a small Mayan boy in his arms.

Though Dean had told him the nawal had manifested, Sam was still shocked. That a thing made of cloth, wood, minerals, and other components could somehow gain existence, awareness from a community and then be able manifest on the physical plane was mind-boggling.

The boy reached out in Sam's direction, his dark gaze meeting his. He was small, a toddler, yet his eyes spoke of a lot more years. He was also thin, undernourished, and his dark skin was discolored in places. It reminded him of the sick plants in Lanah's greenhouse. Sam took him from his brother's arms.

The three of them started toward the walls of the estate. The sirens Sam had heard earlier had stopped. He could only assume they were at the gates. He hoped it would keep the guards busy.

The boy sighed against him then placed his hand over Sam's heart. As Dean had done, the boy sent energy back into him. Sam felt his speed pick up but also noticed the increased sunken look around the boy's eyes. This place was hurting him.

"No, you mustn't. Please!"

Dean glanced back toward them, having taken point, and slowed down to rejoin them.

The boy let his hand drop going even more limp in Sam's arms. He could almost see the bundle's components inside him. He was growing weaker.

"We really have to get him out of here. This place is bad for him."

Dean nodded. "I know. He's starting to smell wrong just like the rest of this stinking place."

They moved forward using all the cover they could find but rushing as fast as they dared. The closer they came the wall the more uncomfortable Sam began to feel. The wall meant freedom and an end to this mess, so the weird itch between his shoulder blades and rising dread made no sense.

He looked down at the nawal. "You'll be free soon." He wasn't sure if he said it more to reassure the child or himself.

The boy raised a hand and quickly passed it over Sam's eyes. It was as if another veil had been lifted, yet another world revealed. With a gasp, Sam stumbled to a halt. For the first time he noticed how his breath was coming out visible and he could feel a chill in the air which wasn't part of the time of year.

"_Dean_."

His brother stopped and came back his gaze darting around them looking for whatever was troubling Sam, a puzzled look on his face. Sam stared past him, at the things he could now see at the looming wall. Goosebumps ran up and down his arms and legs.

"What the hell, dude?" Dean's gaze locked on his face. "I can see your breath. It wasn't that cold a few minutes ago." Sam saw an idea pop into his head. "Oh no, no way. Ghosts? No way!"

The boy leaned forward and passed his hand over Dean's eyes as well.

The string of expletives that followed was impressive even for his brother.

The wall they were running toward, the means to gain their freedom, was being guarded by the dead.

"Holy crap! Who is this Stanfield guy? No wonder Bela didn't want to be on his bad side."

Personally, Sam hoped they never found out. That they'd gotten as far as they had without interference boded well that the owner had been the one in the Rolls after all. The clench in the pit of his stomach told him it might have been a totally different story if the man had been here during their little stunt.

The dead were strung out along the wall, most of them men, but a few women and children as well. He had never seen so many ghosts gathered in one place before. As many of them as he and his brother had seen over the years, Sam knew instantly these weren't normal. Their faces were slack, their eyes empty and a thin cord of ectoplasm connected each of them to the wall. Glyphs appeared to glow from the depths of the structure itself, and bits of white and yellow glimmered throughout. Sam felt bile rise up in his throat as he realized what they were. "Dean, these people… Their bodies are part of the wall."

The thickness Sam felt in the air, it came from the dead. It was the echoes of their pain, their suffering, the fact they'd been purposely denied the light. It oozed from open sores poisoning everything around them. The boy moaned in Sam's arms.

"That's just _sick_." The loathing in his brother's voice was thick.

"I don't think we're going to be able to get out of here." Sam was slightly surprised when he realized he'd been the one to give the ominous pronouncement.

"Oh we're getting out. No doubt about it." Dean threw the duffel to the ground and dug inside. He pulled out a small bag of rock salt. "Never leave home without it." He gave them a humorless grin as he grabbed the duffel up again and slung it over his shoulder. "When I start throwing, you run for the rope and climb on over. Got it?"

"But…"

"Just do it!" Dean made a sprint for the wall, a handful of salt in his hand.

Sam had no choice but to follow.

His brother threw the salt and the two ghosts in front of him disappeared. As he reached for another handful, however, the first two were instantly replaced by two others. Suddenly Dean was flying backwards, the salt going one way, the duffel another. His brother hit the ground hard.

"Dean!" Sam rushed to where he fell. His brother was already trying to get up, shaking his head as if dazed. "Dude, you all right?"

Sam tried to give him a hand up, but Dean brushed him off.

"Damn, they pack a nasty punch."

"What do we do now?" Fear was already nibbling at him, not able to see how they would get out of this. The miasma was growing thicker as if what he'd done to the hut holding the nawal had set something off. If the walls were this protected, Sam didn't think they'd stand a chance in the house. And though the cops were here, they would have to go past Stanfield's staff to get to the gate, something he was sure they wouldn't allow.

He could see similar thoughts flickering across his brother's face.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

"I don't think we have a choice, Sammy. You're going to have to do some more mojo stuff." Dean gave his brother a shrug.

"_What_?"

Sam was looking a little green. The boy seemed even worse. He didn't know if his brother knew he was being affected and he didn't really want to bring his attention to it if he didn't have to. Dean had to get the two of them out of there and he needed to do it now – but he would need help, from Sam.

"Look around, dude. Those ghosts are surrounding the whole place. So the only way to get past them is to get rid of them. And to do that, we need you."

"Dean, _dammit_, I'm not really a shaman, okay? I don't have what it takes to do all this." He waved his free arm around. "You may be comfortable changing form back and forth and acting like all this is everyday stuff, but it isn't! And in case I didn't make it clear earlier, I can't get any help in here, even if I could find something in the blasted memories Ix Chel gave me to help."

Dean gave him a cold look, feeling like shaking Sam to his senses, but keeping still instead. "You done?"

His brother had the grace to look sheepish. "I…guess…"

"One." Dean held up a finger. He had been tempted to make it the middle one, but decided to restrain himself. "We don't have a choice. You don't do this, we're trapped here and more than likely dead. Two." Up went another finger. "You keep forgetting I'm your nagual. You need power? I'll give you plenty. And three." Rather than hold up another finger, Dean pointed up at the moon, at himself, and at the boy. "The only one here who doesn't believe you can do this is you."

The nawal reached up and touched Sam's face voicing his own vote of confidence. It seemed to shock the heck out of Sammy. His gaze darted back and forth looking at nothing as fought to make up his mind.

Dean could feel the seconds ticking away, their luck pushed way way over the line. Yet he couldn't rush this. This place was working his brother over and he was the only one who could fight it. Sam had to make up his mind on his own.

"I don't like being a freak. I don't want any powers." Sammy's voice was small.

Dean placed a hand on his shoulder. "Dude, you've always been a freak, with or without powers. Besides, you are what you are and I wouldn't want you any other way, okay? Otherwise you wouldn't be my little brother Sam."

His brother swallowed hard then lifted his gaze to meet Dean's. His face was full of uncertainty and worry poured from his eyes, but he slowly nodded. "I just don't want to hurt you."

"Dude, you won't! I keep telling you, I'm your strength. It's my job! Take what you need."

It was then he realized he shouldn't have been able to see his brother's expression this clearly and a moment later he knew why he could. Lights had come on all over the walls and stayed on, the house lit up like a birthday cake. Oh crap. The cops must be gone. They were out of time.

Dean grabbed Sammy by the arm and dragged him behind the trunk of a large oak. "Sorry to rush you, bro, but it's now or never."

Sam handed the boy over to him and still looking unsure sat down cross-legged in the grass as he had before. Dean placed the boy on his brother's legs needing both hands free for other things. He knelt down on one knee and placed one hand over Sam's heart and in the other he held his gun. The boy reached up and placed his hand over Dean's.

"No… You can't…"

The nawal just stared up at Sammy until he looked away.

"Just do it, Sam."

His brother gave out one of his deep sighs then glanced up through the branches of the tree at the shinning moon.

Dean wasn't sure if it was all the switched on lights or the moonlight or something else altogether but Sam suddenly looked less green around the edges than before. He could feel his brother's heartbeat calming beneath the pressure of his hand as well.

Then he couldn't pay attention to him anymore, as something moved off on the right clamoring for his attention. A man in a suit and definitely armed had just rushed from the cover of one tree to another. A weird glow shone around him and Dean wondered if this too was a gift from when the boy passed his hand over his eyes. Handy. He'd be able to see the bad guys way easier than they'd be able to see him. But then too, they had the disadvantage of not being able to move from where they were while Sammy did his magic bit. This might get ugly.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Sam stared at the moon and thought of Ix Chel and the burden she'd placed on him. He had no spirits to help him, no offerings to make, not even the small bit of honey of creation from the fireworks like before. All he had was himself, his brother, and a boy who didn't really exist.

Yet the longer he stared the more he sensed this was not entirely the case. Behind the memories inside him there were people. Those who'd lived and touched the worlds and spoke the Words just as he was meant to. There was his brother, and through the warm connection of his hand, the boy. And through him were the people who'd been born, lived, loved, and died where the nawal had reigned as the village heart, a piece of them remembered for as long as it existed.

Up above, there was Ix Chel herself, sending what protection and power she could from her place on high. And just beyond the walls, he could sense the presence of her four sons, the points of the compass. The others he had tried to summon for help earlier were out there still, waiting. And the invisible bundle at his chest carried its own pack of spirits from the jungles eager to make things right again.

So he wasn't alone and he was needed. And those trapped in the walls of this place required his help or they would be stuck here forever, used for evil and for trapping others into their same horrendous fate. They deserved to be free. And those with him told him he could give them that freedom. He just needed to believe.

Sam closed his eyes and welcomed those with him. If he could not have help in this world, then he would have it in another, even if it was of his own making. What he didn't have here, he had there, beyond the veil. Those who had come before him in this other place visited him in his heart from the other realms and left offerings, Words, creations. There Sam clothed himself with the trappings of his borrowed station, feathers, jewelry, and more. Taking up the rum, he took a mouthful and sprayed it into the air to fall more gently than the gentlest of rains. Hundreds of others joined him, moving as he moved, speaking as he spoke, swaying to the rhythm of life and death a dance of time and memory.

A jaguar stood on his right, a warrior in his prime on his left, lines flowing from them to connect to his center. Spirits swarmed around them all, changing shape as they moved, a counterpoint to the others and making more together than what they could alone.

Sam was the conductor, the spear point, nudging things first one way and then another, flexing creation, gathering it, weaving it, making Words out of Words.

Shots rang around him but they were distant, unimportant, as if from another life. With all his heart and soul he wove a song to entice the gods of the nine layers of hell and those of the thirteen levels of heaven to help them. He sang to them of the plight of the Maya, of the village, and the evil being perpetrated in the 'now'.

A grunt of pain to his right made him falter. The jaguar was bleeding – his nagual had been wounded. His brother looked up at him.

"Sammy, if you're gonna _do_ something, now would be a good time!"

And so he did.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Dean doubted his brother heard him. He wasn't sure if he should be worried about it or not. Images sunk in and out of his brother as if he were wearing people and creatures like coats. It was weird, freaky, disturbing and one of the coolest things he'd ever seen all at the same time.

He took a shot at an over eager guard who stuck himself out just a little too far, especially since he glowed to Dean's eyes like a neon sign. He hit him, but wasn't sure if he'd actually taken him out. He hissed as he pulled back, the movement pulling at the graze he took on his hip a minute or so earlier. There was a large hole in the tree where a bullet had pierced the edge from the other side about two inches from his brother's face. The latter never flinched. Wherever his brother had gone, it was a long way away from here. Dean just hoped he remembered to come back – and soon.

The world tilted on its axis or at least felt like it when the hand he had over his brother's heart grew abruptly hot and it was as if his insides got vacuumed out of his body and into Sam's. His muscles turned to water and he collapsed though his hand never moved from its position on his brother's chest. He saw Sammy's eyes open and they glowed from within.

Dean's heart lurched and for the first time wondered if he'd asked his brother to do the right thing.

Sam opened his mouth and a blast of sound like a thousand voices raised at once launched out like an exploding bomb. It washed away from him homing in on the estate's surrounding wall and crashing into it with the force of a tidal wave. A point in the wall Dean thought might be due east exploded upwards from the outside and he blinked, thinking he saw a red jaguar running up toward the sky before it.

Though his ears were ringing from Sam's original blast, he thought he heard three other explosions at other places along the wall. Screams of pain or perhaps utter jubilation echoed in waves. The air around him was no longer as cold as before.

His hand detached itself from Sam's chest and he realized whatever his brother had been doing was over. Wanting nothing more than to just lie there, feeling about as weak as he had during his hospital stay two years ago, Dean forced himself to roll onto his side and wobble up to a sitting position. Sammy still sat in the same pose as before except his eyes were closed and his mouth hung open totally slack.

"Sammy?"

Though everything tried to spin around him, Dean focused solely on his brother. Unsteady hands touched his brother's face then checked for a pulse at his neck. The latter seemed a little thready but was there. Dean found himself breathing just a little easier. The boy in Sam's lap also had his eyes closed, but his skin was nowhere near as splotchy as before. Looked like Sammy had done it. One glance at the nearest wall confirmed it. All the ghosts were gone. He hoped they would stay that way.

The only thing left to do was get their asses out of there before the goons came gunning for them again. Easier said than done.

"Sammy, come on. Nap time's over. You need to wake up now." He gently slapped at his brother's face trying to bring him around.

Nothing…not even a twitch.

He held back from voicing a groan, not able to afford to waste the energy. Whatever Sam had done, he'd taken Dean at his word and drained him pretty much dry. Probably not as much as what he'd done to himself though. Guess it was time to prove he really was Sammy's nagual.

Carefully, he moved the boy to the grass then leaned forward to better heft Sam over his shoulder. His brother's weight felt like a ton of iron trying to drive Dean into the ground. Dammit, this shouldn't be so hard! He felt as feeble as a newborn. He wouldn't have it. He had signed up to pay too high a price to let Sam be slaughtered in this place. And the fact he had an idea what they'd do with his corpse afterwards was even more of an incentive to get all of them the hell out.

Nestling the boy in one arm and leaning the other against the trunk of the tree, Dean took three deep breaths then hefted up to his feet. The world spun and twisted in even more directions than before, but he held on. His legs were shaking, his knees feeling like they might betray him at any moment. He cursed at them and himself under his breath until he felt slightly steadier.

Letting go of the tree and grabbing Sam's legs instead, Dean trudged out toward the hole in the wall on the east side. His path wasn't exactly what one would call straight but he was getting there. Sammy might look skinny, but he weighed a lot. Someone wasn't going to get fed for a few days after this. In contrast the boy seemed to weigh almost nothing, which in its own way was worrying too. Guess he'd have to give him Sammy's servings, put some meat on those bones. Heck, did nawals even eat like normal people? Somehow he doubted it.

It felt like forever before he reached the breach. His legs felt like rubber and the rest of him he could hardly feel at all. Still not even a twitch from his brother. He looked down at the boy and saw that his eyes were open. When their gazes met, the boy pointed at the rubble of the wall.

Dean stared at him in confusion then realized the boy wanted him to grab a piece of it. He moaned. There was no way he'd be able to keep walking if he stopped and absolutely no way could he bend down to pick one up, he'd never ever get back up again. The boy just kept staring at him and continued pointing.

"Yeah, I got it. I got it."

He wavered at the hole, having to concentrate on his footing like never before. Luckily a small piece sat on part of the crumpled right side so all he had to do was balance for a moment and reach out and grab it. He dumped it in a pocket then took hold of Sam's legs again before he tipped over to the side.

Sweat was running down his back and sides and he still had to get them to the Impala, which was parked a safe distance away – curse his luck. He'd better just get on with it.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

Dean almost fell over as he half turned at the booming voice. Whatever the kid had done to him was still in effect and had other cool benefits because his gaze seemed to suddenly magnify and zoom in on the speaker regardless of the fact he was an acre or more away. He wasn't sure if he'd heard the guy due to the kid or some other reason. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and long silver hair. He was wearing what looked to him like a mighty expensive blue suit. The guy was standing in the upper open patio at the back of the house. And he didn't look happy. Well hello there, Amos Stanfield. Glad not to be meeting you, buddy.

Then the guy blinked. Both of his eyes filmed over in an almost glowing blue.

Holy Shit Fuck! The mobster was a _demon_. Last thing they needed right now.

Dean turned away praying up and down the dude's vision was nowhere near as good as his right then. Not only did they just get added to someone else's shit list, but it was a demon's shit list at that. Bela had better not have told him who they were. He wondered if she truly knew whom she was dealing with. No wonder her panties had been in such a wad!

The boy lightly patted Dean's pocket where he'd stashed the piece of rock. Dean didn't get what he was trying to say, having enough problems just keeping one foot moving in front of the other. He curved away from the opening in the wall to use it to keep them from view of those in the estate grounds as he muddled along. Heads would roll and he didn't plan to be around for the show.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

The first thing Sam was aware of was a familiar thrumming vibration moving through his body. The second, a little slower in coming, was that he was on his side and scrunched up into a rather uncomfortable position which had already put one leg to sleep. The third, even slower in making itself known, was the fact he felt like he'd dug up a whole cemetery on his own with only the use of a garden spade. Every last inch of him ached and he felt weary beyond exhaustion.

He just had no idea why.

Opening his eyes took all of his concentration. His eyelids felt like sandpaper over his eyeballs as they moved but he eventually got it done.

He wasn't sure why he bothered. All he could see was dark leather. Yet he found that he wasn't too concerned. The thrumming told him things were okay, that his brother must be nearby because hardly ever did he have one without the other. His tongue was a dead weight in his mouth as he struggled to say his brother's name. "D-"

The half sound wasn't even out of his mouth before he got a response. Almost as if his brother had been doing nothing but waiting for it.

"Sammy! Dude, welcome back to the land of the living!"

Sam struggled to raise his gaze, not having the energy for anything more, and noticed that the rearview mirror was tilted at a very weird angle as if to give the driver a good view of the backseat. Through it, he caught a partial glimpse of his brother's face. He looked like shit -- bags under his eyes, sunken cheeks, bad color. What the hell had Dean been doing?

He tried to ask but it was like swimming against the current. He knew what he wanted to do, yet actually doing it was proving something else entirely. "De-"

"The kid's okay. He's up here with me. And we got away clean as far as I can tell. Figured we might as well hole up at the pink place since it's closest to where we need to go anyway. Less chance they'll find our trail that way too. Did I ever tell you caffeine and sugar were the best inventions ever? And drive thrus…we should invest in drive thrus."

Sam closed his eyes for a second and almost forgot to open them again. Dean had been worried, worried bad. But why? The kid was the nawal; he recalled that much. And they'd gone to get him, to bring him home. And there'd been a snag or two…and then…What?

"Dean-"

"I am _so_ friggin hungry. But too tired to eat proper, you know? Once we get to that hotel though, I'm gonna order everything I can get my hands on and then double it. I'm going to eat and eat until I feel like I'm gonna burst." Dean turned his head to glance over at him as if the reflection of his image just wasn't good enough. "You hungry, thirsty? There should be some protein drinks or something on the floorboard somewhere. Want me to pull over? Are you hurting? Just tell me what you need and I'll be all over it."

Sam swallowed and tried again. "What…happened?"

Dean's mouth snapped closed. He seemed to put a lot of attention at staring out at the road all of a sudden, but finally his gaze flickered back towards him through the rearview. "What do you remember?"

Sam closed his eyes again and tried to think back. He was sitting against a tree, staring at the moon, trying to figure out what to do. There were others…Words turning into music…Power gathering…then… "I…We…" He shook his head. "Don't know…"

"Well, you did it, whatever it was you did. You freed all those souls from the wall. You made it so we could get away."

"I…did?"

Dean snorted. "Yeah. And then you ditched the party and left me to do all the cleanup. You even missed seeing Amos."

Sam's brows furrowed for a second. "Stanfield? He was there?"

"At the end. Guess he came home and found not everything was kosher. He looked pissed." A darting glance again. "Oh, and by the way, he's a demon."

Sam felt his heart trip for a moment in his chest. A demon. Unfinished business. Possibly even one of the ones they'd released from the gate, maybe even one of the ones gunning for him too. Something he'd yet to tell Dean about. "That's…bad…"

"Yeah, well, what else is new?"

The car slowed down and made a turn, making Sam slide an inch toward the door. Though he wanted to, he couldn't summon the energy to stop himself from doing it. Had he ever felt this beat and drained?

"Okay, we're here. Entrance is closest to the room, so we're going in that way."

Sam blinked several times before he could connect 'here' with the Comfort Inn. And Dean had parked out front? Of the _salmon_ building? He must have really scared him. Maybe it would be better not to know what he did do back at the estate.

Dean turned off the car and carefully picked up the kid. Knowing eyes locked with Sam's as Dean brought him up. Sam was glad to see the boy looked better than before, more fleshed out, healthier.

With a groan his brother got out of the car. It seemed a really long time before he made it the short distance over to open the back door.

"So how am I gonna do this?"

Sam assumed the question must be rhetorical since he had no idea what his brother was talking about.

"Dude, can you…? Dammit!"

His eyes started closing of their own volition.

"Sammy, no! Dude, stay with me. Just a little longer, man. I can't do this on my own, _I just can't_!"

The half panic in his brother's voice and admission of things never admitted snapped his eyes open again. He couldn't quite understand what was going on, but Dean needed him. He had to be there for him. Get him out of his contract. Save him. He had to. Had to…

"Yeah, yeah, that's the ticket, Sammy. Don't leave you're big old brother alone."

He felt hands on his arm and shoulder, which turned him a little in the seat, then a pressure pressed against his chest and warmth seeped into him over his heart and spread all over. Sam gasped as every last part of him seemed to wake all at once and started to complain in earnest. Somewhere in the back of his mind alarms started to ring, something about this being bad even though he felt more capable and alert than he had since he awakened.

Dean started panting over him as if he'd been running for hours.

More alarms went off and without thinking Sam struck out and shoved Dean's hand away from his chest. "No!" His brother almost fell on top of him.

"Not so rough, man." Dean's voice was partially garbled, as if he were drunk. "Can you…can you try to sit up?"

Sam tried. He took it slow still not sure the commands from his brain were making it to the necessary places like they were supposed to. He pushed himself up with his arms. They were shaking from strain though they shouldn't have, but they held. He leaned back against the seat, breathing heavily but able to maintain his balance.

The smile of utter relief on Dean's face scared him. He just wasn't sure if it was for his brother or himself or both. Looked like whatever he had done back at the estate had very nearly tapped both of them out of the game.

"Bet you can't get yourself out of the car." Dean backed up a step to give him room, holding tightly to the door for support. He noticed the boy peeking inside at him while sitting on the asphalt and leaning against the car's rear tire.

Getting out took a lot longer than sitting up, but eventually he managed it. One arm was over the roof of the car and a hand clamped to the edge of the door and they were about the only things keeping him upright. "You…lose…"

"Yeah, sure did." If his brother looked any happier the world would come to an end. "I think, I think we can make it inside if we prop each other up. You game?"

Sam stared from his brother to the entrance of the Comfort Inn and back again. "Handicap ramp?"

Dean studied the two different ways up to the lobby door with intent focus. "Longer than taking the five steps."

"Handrails are closer though, otherwise someone does without."

"Good point. Ramp it is." Dean shuffled forward and holding to the back of the car, bent over to pick up the boy. It took him three tries before he could straighten up again. "Gawd I hope this isn't what it feels like to be old."

Sam inched forward and the two of them locked an arm over the other's shoulder. Their uneven heights made this somewhat awkward for his brother, but he said nothing. On the count of three, they released themselves from the support of the car, and after shutting the door, shuffled their way toward the entrance.

It was one of the longest walks ever.

As they finally crossed the lobby on the way to the elevator, Sam noticed the caretaker for the desk staring as if trying to figure out what to make of them.

"Woo, long night!" Dean tried to shuffle them along a little faster. "Partied like it was 1999. Yeah."

Turning the corner and leaving the lobby behind them was a relief.

"_Oh man_ that was so lame… New low for lame… I am so better than that. Freakin depressing…"

Sam conserved his energy rather than comment, sure that somehow or other his brother would survive the blow despite his obvious belief to the contrary.

When they reached their door it was another five minutes before they could find the card key and actually it open. For the first time ever, Sam was grateful the room was so very small, made it less far to have to go.

When they reached the first bed, Dean abruptly let go of his shoulder and knocked Sam's arm off of his own. Unprepared, Sam tilted precariously then fell on the top of bed.

"Stay." Dean threw him a tired grin as he swayed somewhat dangerously on his feet.

Sam didn't move. He wasn't sure he could get up on his own if he wanted to. Just laying there felt beyond bliss at the moment. His eyelids slid closed.

Next time he opened them light was streaming in from the windows at the far end of the room and the smell of food was everywhere.

He sat up slowly, nowhere near as sore as before, but still feeling terribly weak. He hadn't been moved from where he landed on the bed, but someone had thrown a blanket over him.

There was a long table set up right in front of him overflowing with food -- bagels, pies, pancakes, muffins, kolaches, donuts, sausage, fruit, cheese, breads, lunchmeats, and more besides. He spotted empty bags on the floor from at least three restaurants or shops. Sam's mouth started watering just looking at it all. He wasn't sure he'd ever been so hungry in his life. He reached for the closest eatable, which happened to be a bowl of fruit and tore into it.

Apple bits came out the side of his mouth as he took in several bites before trying to even chew and swallow. Nothing had ever tasted this good ever. Dean would have a cow if he saw him gorging like this.

The thought made him slow down and for the first time actually pay attention to the rest of his surroundings. Where was his brother? He'd only turned slightly where he sat before he found him. Dean was sitting in one of the room's ugly chairs, his head tilted back, mouth open, sound asleep. Bits of food lay over his gray shirt, sauce stains around his lips. He still had a partial piece of toast clamped in one hand as if loath to let any food escape him.

The soft rise and fall of his chest reassured Sam that his brother was alive rather than succumbed to blockage from his eating frenzy.

Finishing the apple, he dumped the core on the floor and started in on a pear. He could feel the natural sugar hitting his starving system, his stomach demanding more and more. Sam turned a little further where he sat and spotted the nawal sitting on Dean's bed.

Their gazes met and the boy smiled. Sam smiled back totally unable to help himself. Pear juice dribbled down his chin. The boy held up something in his hands and showed it to him. It was a whittled replica of the Impala.

Bits of wood still littered the bed covers. Sam stared at them and the toy in amazement. Dean hadn't whittled anything in years. Hell, he couldn't remember him doing it since the last time he'd made Sam something while he was a freshman in high school. It was something Dean had picked up after that disastrous Christmas where he'd stolen gifts from a nearby house and all the presents ended up being for a girl. Every Christmas after, whether their father remembered the occasion or not, Sam had had at least one gift. Chunks of wood were easy things to run across in their travels – no money required.

He reached for another pear and as he bit into it realized there was more to the wooden Impala though than his brother just making the boy a toy. Dean had fed him with it. Making the toy was an act of creation and in so doing, he had made food for the nawal. The poor thing had probably been starving as badly as he was if not more.

Sam smiled in the kid's direction again then reached for more food. He was glad to also notice Dean took the time to put salt on the windows and door, even going so far as to draw devil's traps on the carpet with chalk. It meant they should be safe for at least a while. At least long enough to eat and rest a bit. Both of which he planned to do in earnest.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Dean rubbed at his stiff neck as he slipped behind the wheel of the Impala. He'd gotten up a couple of hours before with a pounding headache and a horrible crick in his neck from sleeping in the stupid hotel room chair for over half the day. It hadn't been what he planned to do, but his body hadn't consulted him before doing what it wanted.

Sam closed the passenger door, having slid inside the car under his own power. The boy sat contentedly in his lap, still holding the copy of Baby Dean had made him. He wondered if Sam remembered he'd created him one just like it once upon a time.

Thinking of his brother, Dean gave Sam a surreptitious once over as he started the car. Sammy looked relaxed for once, actual color in his face again, and he seemed to be moving mostly like his usual self.

When Dean had woken up, he'd found the blanket he placed earlier on his brother covering him instead and a major dent in the food he'd left spread around. Sammy was sound asleep in Dean's bed, the boy cradled up against him and sleeping as well. It had been such a relief to see it, as he'd been gnawed on by doubt off and on over the hours on whether or not his brother had pushed himself too far, that he'd almost forgotten about the pounding headache.

Now with the sun close to being swallowed up by the horizon, the two of them were up, washed, dressed, and ready to bring the mission to an end.

He turned on the radio and drove out of the lot.

The drive seemed to take no time at all. Before he knew it they were in front of the Evans' place. Dean checked to make sure his gun was in place, his backup piece in his jacket, his bottle of holy water, and a couple of knives in other strategic places. While he didn't expect any trouble, it was better to be safe than sorry.

He got out of the car and then watched his brother do the same. Sammy was still moving a little slow, but otherwise looked all right. He'd make sure they took it easy the next couple of days. Probably was time for another 'last chance' wish. Drive his brother crazy and get him to rest all in one. He'd have to make sure it was a whopper.

"Should we ring the house or just go on to the greenhouse?" Sammy was staring at him over the top of the car.

"Greenhouse first. Evans wasn't the friendliest of guys, so I'd rather avoid him if we could. I might have to belt him for sure this time if he gets out of line."

His brother frowned in that disapproving way of his. "I don't think Lanah would be too happy with that."

"Hey, it's totally up to him." Dean shrugged. "I'm just saying."

"Try controlling yourself anyway. Something new to try."

Oh my. Testy! His brother was definitely feeling better. Dean grinned and led the way.

Lights were on inside the greenhouse though outside dusk was settling all around them, the chirping of night insects starting to serenade the night. He opened the greenhouse doors and stepped into the water laden air, having a feeling he knew exactly where to find their client. Just as he suspected, Lanah was sitting on the same stool as before staring into the slowly stagnating man made pond.

"We're back."

Her head rose and turned toward them a surprised look on her face. Her hands shook as she covered her mouth as if trying to keep herself from asking the only thing that mattered for fear of what the answer might be.

Dean took pity on her. "We found him."

Her dark eyes grew larger and larger as if his words were only sinking in in stages. Her hands fell away from her mouth. "The nawal is safe?"

Sam stepped forward. "He's fine. And he'll be even better now that he's home." He set the boy down.

"He _manifested_?" Her eyes grew even wider though Dean would have bet a moment ago it wasn't possible.

"It would probably be safer for all of you if he could stay that way. No one will be expecting a village heart to be a kid." Sammy looked uncomfortable for a second, but then went on. "And since you have some aptitude, maybe he could then teach you how to better safe guard everyone." He nodded toward her extended belly. "Your daughter, too."

Now it was Dean's turn to have his eyes grow big. How the heck did Sammy know that?

Lanah stared at the boy and slowly crouched down to her knees. She spread her arms wide, a truly beautiful smile transforming her face. "Welcome home!"

With a squee of delight, the boy rushed to her, the wooden Impala held tight in one hand. She hugged the boy close, tears streaming down her face, this time in joy rather than sorrow.

"Well, Sammy, I think we're done here." Damn if moments like these didn't make the whole stinking job worthwhile everyonce in a while.

"Are we?"

Dean glanced over at his brother at that, but didn't get to follow up on it.

"Lanah?" Evans was at the double doors into the greenhouse. "I heard a car and saw one parked outside…" The moment he laid eyes on Dean, his face closed up. "I can come back later." He started to slip back out the door.

"Darren, no!" Lanah rose up to her feet, the boy in her arms. "Please stay. I have things to tell you. Things I should have told you a long time ago. Things you need to know."

Evans stared from his wife to them to the child in her arms, his expression growing confused and hurt. "You've had an affair?"

"No! Oh my goodness no! It's nothing like that. Please, come. Let me explain it all. Please, I love you. Let me share this with you."

Almost as if despite his better judgment, Evans came forward.

Dean tapped Sammy on the shoulder and dipped his head in the direction of the door. His brother nodded and the two of them quietly slipped out into the night, getting out of the way of the coming explanations. Dean threw one last glance over his shoulder at the small family and had the feeling all four of them would be alright.

"They're not safe. You know that, right?" Sam slowed down as they came close to the Impala.

"What? From Bela? After what we did to her and the way you tricked her, I don't think she'll be wanting more of this again soon."

Sam shook his head, his eyes troubled. "No, not her… Stanfield."

"Dude, he's not going to be bothering them."

Sam's brow went up. "Why not?"

Dean couldn't help a laugh. "Cause he's gonna be too busy is why."

His brother threw him a scrunched look. "Dean, did you hit your head or something? Because you're not making any sense whatsoever right now."

He couldn't help a shit eating grin. "Well, while you were off playing sleeping beauty, I was working." He leaned up against the car.

"Working? How?" His brother did the same beside him.

"It was the kid." He threw a glance back toward the greenhouse. "The idea came from him, though he didn't actually say anything."

Sammy made a 'move along' gesture with his hand. "Still not making any sense here, Dean."

"I had a piece of the wall on me, Sammy. The kid made me pick one up when I was dragging your sorry ass from the estate. You know, a piece with the remains of dead people inside them? Put that in a nice Fed Ex package to the attorney general's office with a quick note, back when I made the mad munchy run way early this morning. I expect our demon mobster's place is a nice big swarm of CSI types about now. Won't leave the guy a lot of time to worry about the heart of a village or exacting revenge on us." The shit eating grin came back with a vengeance.

"_Damn_!"

Sammy's answering smile and the deep note of admiration in his little brother's voice just made the whole thing that much more worthwhile. His grin grew into a full fledged smile.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

The heavy scent of plants and the noisy cacophony of tropical animals told Sam he wasn't having a normal dream. The fact his skin was dark and he was dressed as a Maya shaman told him it might not be a dream at all, but something else entirely.

Staring at the forest around him, he recognized the pond and the small clearing around it. He stared into the waters expecting to see an aspect of the moon, but it was empty.

"Ba'ax ka wa'alik, shaman."

Sam spun around.

Ix Chel in her thick black hair with its distinguishing white stripe stood before him, looking up at him with knowing eyes.

"Ba…Ba'ax ka wa'alik."

She gave him a small pleased smile. "I wanted to personally thank you for your help. I know there are other more worrisome things you would have rather been taking care of than helping an old woman."

Sam looked away, embarrassed that she knew this. "We owed you. We were happy to help."

Ix Chel moved in close. A hand cupped his cheek and moved his face until her warm, sad gaze met his. "I wish I could offer a solution to your problem, but I cannot. What has been done is outside my sphere of influence. And not all hells are the same." She gave him another small smile. "But do not despair. There is always hope." Her other hand moved over his heart. "I am sorry I cannot do more."

Pressure built behind her touch and power poured inside him. Every last vestige of fatigue and then some were expunged from his body. Worry and anxiety dropped away from him as if it had never been. He felt renewed and not just physically. It was as if she were giving him the strength to endure. He wasn't sure he deserved it.

Her hand moved away but her gaze remained locked with his. "I am concerned, however." Her expression darkened. "You have changed much since last we met. You must be careful. You must not lose your Heart. You must not lose the Words that are Sam. Never forget the innocents lest you lose yourself with them."

He shivered inside knowing only too well of what she was talking about. They had the Colt, but to use it meant taking a possibly innocent human life. And he'd already made that choice several times already. Worse, he was actively trying to change himself into things he was not. Soon there might come a time when he would have to fight the war alone and there would be little time for self doubt or making moral choices.

"I…I'll try." He hoped he could. But if it meant choosing between losing himself or losing Dean… His priorities would stay the same no matter what.

"I understand." She took a step back and gave him another soft smile, this one bereft of the tinge of sadness of the other. "Your brother is also here. He is looking for you." She waved toward the line of trees. "Go to him. Enjoy your time together here. And once you're done, the memories you borrowed will sleep again, so have no fear."

Sam wasn't sure whether to be happy or bothered that he seemed to be so transparent to this woman, this goddess. "Thank you."

"Be strong."

The trees parted beside him forming a path for him to follow.

Sam bowed to her, then took to the path. As he walked along he could suddenly hear his brother laughing with glee somewhere in the distance. After a moment he realized Dean was also calling for him.

"Saaammmmy! Come out to play-ay!"

The happy sounds filled his heart more than he could ever say. He would make sure to create some joyful memories that would be theirs and theirs alone before they were done that night. All else could come after.

With a new spring in his step, Sam ran to rejoin his brother.

The End

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Thanks for sticking with me through this journey. Hope the ending didn't stink too badly! Comments and crits welcome. Take care!


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